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PRAIRIE 


EOCKY  MOUNTAIN  LIFE; 


OR,  THS 


CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON   TRAIL, 


"  Let  him  who  crawls  enamor'd  of  decay, 
Cling  to  his  couch,  and  sicken  years  away ; 
Heave  his  thick  breath,  and  shake  his  palsied  head  : 
Ours — the  fre:>li  turf,  aaJ  not  th?  feverish  bed." 

tiTooa. 


BY  FRANCIS  PARKMAN,  Jb. 


COLUMBUS: 

PUBLISHED  A^T)  SOLD  EXCLUSIVELY  BY  SUBSCRIPTION. 
BY    J.    MILLER. 

1857. 


Bmtgeed,  according  to  Act  of  Congress, 

By  GEORGE  P.  PUTNAM. 
In  tke  Clerk's  OfBoe  of  the  District  Conrt  for  the  Sonthem  District  of  New-  York. 


T3  r\  \ 


PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


*^ThiSy  too,  shall  pass  away"  were  the  words  graven  on 
the  ring  of  the  Persian  despot,  Nadir  Shah,  to  remind  him 
of  the  evanescence  of  all  things  earthly.  This,  too,  shall 
pass  away,  was  the  doom  long  ago  pronounced  on  all 
that  is  primitive  in  life  or  scenery  within  the  limits  of 
our  national  domain ;  but  no  one  could  have  dreamed  that 
the  decree  would  find  so  swift  an  execution.  Less  than 
six  years  have  passed  since  the  incidents  related  in  this 
volume  took  place,  Jjut  that  short  interval  has  been  the 
witness  of  changes  almost  incredible.  The  herds  of  buf- 
folo  which  blackened  the  prairies  of  the  Arkansas  and 
the  Platte  have  vanished  before  the  increasing  stream  of 
emigrant  caravans.  Fort  Laramie,  which  then  was  a  mere 
trading  post,  occupied  by  a  handful  of  Canadians,  and 
overawed  by  surrounding  savages,  is  now  a  military 
station  of  the  United  States,  controlling  and  regulating 
the  humbled  tribes  of  the  adjacent  regions.  The  waste 
and  lonely  valley  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  has  become,  as  if 
by  magic,  the  seat  of  a  populous  city,  the  hive  of  a  fanat- 
ical multitude,  whose  movements  are  an  object  of  national 
importance,  and  whose  character  and  fortunes  form  a 
theme  of  the  highest  philosophic  interest.  Eemote  and 
barbarous  California,  rich  in  nothing  but  tallow  and  cow- 
iides,  is  transformed  into  a  modern  Ophir,  swarming  with 


5bb  /  / 


PREFACE. 

eager  life,  and  threatening  to  revolutionize  tlie  financial 
sj-stem  of  the  Tvorld  with  the  outpourings  of  its  wealth. 

Primeval  barbarism  is  assailed  at  last  in  front  and  rear, 
from  the  Mississippi  and  from  the  Pacific;  and,  thus  brought 
between  two  fires,  it  cannot  long  sustain  itself.  With  all 
respect  to  civilization,  I  cannot  help  regretting  this  fi- 
nal consummation ;  and  such  regret  will  not  be  miscon- 
strued by  any  one  who  has  tried  the  prairie  and  mountain 
life,  who  has  learned  to  look  with  an  affectionate  interest 
on  the  rifle  that  was  once  his  companion  and  protector, 
the  belt  that  sustained  his  knife  and  pistol,  and  the  pipe 
which  beguiled  the  tedious  hours  of  his  midnight  watch, 
while  men  and  horses  lay  sunk  in  sleep  around  him. 

The  following  narrative  was  written  in  great  measure 
with  the  view  of  preserving,  in  my  own  mind,  a  clear 
memory  of  the  scenes  and  adventures  which  it  records. 
It  therefore  takes  the  form  of  a  simple  relation  of  facts, 
free,  for  the  most  part,  from  reflections  or  digressions  of 
any  kind ;  and  in  this  circumstance  of  its  origin,  the 
reader  will  find  good  assurance  of  its  entire  authenticity. 


The  journey  whicli  the  following  narrative  describes  was 
undertaken  on  the  writer's  part  with  a  view  of  studying  the 
manners  and  chetracter  of  Indians  in  their  primitive  state.  Al- 
though in  the  chapters  which  relate  to  them,  he  has  only, 
attempted  to  sketch  those  features  of  their  wild  and  picturesque 
life  which  fell,  in  the  present  instance,  under  his  own  eye,  yel 
in  doing  so  he  has  constantly  aimed  to  leave  an  impression  of 
their  character  correct  as  far  as  it  goes.  In  justifying  hii 
claim  to  accuracy  on  this  point,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  advert 
to  the  representations  given  by  poets  and  novelists,  which,  for 
tlie  most  part,  are  mere  creations  of  fancy.  The  Indian  is 
certainly  entitled  to  a  high  rank  among  savages,  but  his  good 
qualities  are  not  those  of  an  Uncas  or  an  OutpUssi. 


A 


CONTENTS. 

CflATTER  rXOI 

I.  The  Frontier, 9 

II.  Breaking  the  Ice, 19 

in.  Fort  Leavenworth 32 

IV.  '  Jumping  Off/ 36 

V.  « The  Big  Blue,' 49 

VI.  The  Platte  and  tlie  Deaert, 70 

VII.  The  Buffalo, 86 

VIII.  Taking  French  Leave,         .         .         .         .         .         .  105 

IX.  Scenes  at  Fort  Laramie,      ",        .       .*        .        .        .124 

X.  The  War  Parties,        .        .        .        .        .        .         .  142 

XL  Scenes  at  the  Camp, 168 

XIL  111  Luck, 191 

XIII.  Hunting  Indians, 200 

XIV.  The  OgillaUah  Village, 228 

XV.  The  Hunting  Camp, 253 

XVL  The  Trappers, 2S0 

XVII.  The  Black  Hills, 293 


8  CONTENTS. 

CUAPTEB            •*  ^•*^®' 

XVni.  A  Mountain  Hunt,  298 

XIX.  Passage  of  the  Mountains,  312 

XX.  The  Lonely  Journey,  332 

XXI.  The  Pueblo  and  Bent's  Fort,  356 

XXII.  Tdte  Rouge,  the  Volunteer,  365 

XXIII.  Indian  Alanns,     ,  371 

XXrV.  The  Chase,  385 

XXV.  The  Buffalo  Camp,  397 

XXVI.  Down  the  Arkansas,  415 

XXVn.  The  Settlement.'       t  436 


#• 


THE 


CALIFOMIA  AND  OEEGON  TMIL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE      FRONTIER. 

Away,  away  from  rndh  and  towiu 
To  the  silent  wilderness." 

Sbbllbt. 


Last  spring,  1846,  was  a  busy  season  in  the  city  of  St. 
Louis.  Not  only  were  emigrants  from  every  part  of  the 
country  preparing  for  the  journey  to  Oregon  and  California, 
but  an  unusual  number  of  traders  were  making  ready  their 
wagons  and  outfits  for  Santa  Fe.  Many  of  the  emigrants, 
especially  of  those  bound  for  California,  were  persons  of  wealth 
and  standing.  The  hotels  were  crowded,  and  the  gunsmiths 
and  saddlers  were  kept  constantly  at  work  in  providing  arms 
and  equipments  for  the  different  parties  of  travellers.  Almost 
every  day  steamboats  were  leaving  the  levee  and  passing  up 
the  Missouri,  crowded  with  passengers  on  their  way  to  the 
frontier. 


10  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

In  one  of  these,  the  '  Radnor,'  since  snagged  and  lost,  my 
friend  and  relative,  Quincy  A.  Shaw,  and  myself,  left  St. 
Louis  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  April,  on  a  tour  of  curiosity 
and  amusement  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  boat  was 
loaded  until  the  water  broke  alternately  over  her  guards.  Her 
upper-deck  was  covered  with  large  wagons  of  a  peculiar  form, 
for  the  Santa  Fc  trade,  and  her  hold  was  crammed  with  goods 
for  tlie  same  destination.  There  were  also  the  equipments  and 
provisions  of  a  party  of  Oregon  emigrants,  a  band  of  mules  and 
horses,  piles  of  saddles  and  harness,  and  a  multitude  of  non- 
descript articles,  indispensable  on  the  prairies.  Almost  hidden 
in  this  medley  one  might  have  seen  a  small  French  cart,  of 
the  sort  very  appropriately  called  a  *  mule-killer,'  beyond  the 
frontiers,  and  not  far  distant  a  tent,  together  with  a  miscella- 
neous assortment  of  boxes  and  barrels.  The  whole  equipage 
was  far  from  prepossessing  in  its  appearance ;  yet,  such  as  it 
was,  it  was  destined  to  a  long  and  arduous  journey,  on  which 
the  persevering  reader  will  accompany  it. 

The  passengers  on  board  the  Radnor  corresponded  with  her 
freight.  In  her  cabin  were  Santa  Fe  traders,  gamblers,  specu- 
lators, and  adventurers  of  various  descriptions,  and  her  steer- 
age was  crowded  with  Oregon  emigrants,  '  mountain  men,* 
negroes,  and  a  party  of  Kanzas  Indians,  who  had  been  on  a 
visit  to  St.  Louis. 

Thus  laden,  the  boat  struggled  upward  for  seven  or  eight 
days  against  the  rapid  current  of  the  Missouri,  grating  upon 
snags,  and  hanging  for  two  or  three  hours  at  a  time  upon  sand- 
bars. We  entered  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri  in  a  drizzling 
rain,  but  the  weather  soon  became  clear,  and  showed  distinctly 
the  broad  and  turbid  river,  with  its  eddies,  its  sand-bars,  its 


THE    FRONTIER.  11 

ragged  islands  and  forest-covered  shores.  The  Missouri  is  con- 
slantly  changing  its  course  ;  wearing  away  its  banks  on  one 
side,  wliile  it  forms  new  ones  on  the  other.  Its  channel  is 
shifting  continually.  Islands  are  formed,  and  then  washca 
away ;  and  while  the  old  forests  on  one  side  are  undermined 
and  sv/>opi  oiT,  a  young  growth  springs  up  from  the  new  soil 
upon  the  other.  With  all  these  changes,  the  water  is  so 
charged  with  mud  and  sand  that  it  is  perfectly  opaque,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  deposits  a  sediment  an  inch  thick  in  the  bottom 
of  a  tumbler.  The  river  was  now  high;  but  when  wo 
descended  in  the  autumn  it  was  fallen  very  low,  and  '\11  the 
secrets  of  its  treacherous  shallows  were  exposed  to  view.  It 
ivas  frightful  to  see  the  dead  and  broken  trees,  thick-set  as  a 
military  abattis,  firmly  imbedded  in  the  sand,  and  all  pointing 
down  stream,  ready  to  impale  any  unhappy  steamboat  that  at 
high  water  should  pass  over  that  dangerous  ground. 

In  five  or  six  days  we  began  to  see  signs  of  the  great  west- 
ern movement  that  was  then  taking  place.  Parties  of  emi- 
grants, with  their  tents  and  wagons,  would  be  encamped  on 
open  spots  near  the  bank,  on  their  way  to  the  common  rendez- 
vous at  Independence.  On  a  rainy  day,  near  sunset,  we 
reached  the  landing  of  this  place,  which  is  situated  some  miles 
from  the  river,  on  the  extreme  frontier  of  Missouri.  The  scene 
was  characteristic,  for  here  were  represented  at  one  view  the 
most  lemarkable  features  of  this  wild  and  enterprising  region. 
On  the  muddy  shore  stood  some  thirty  or  forty  dark  slavish- 
looking  Spaniards,  gazing  stupidly  out  from  beneath  their  broad 
hats.  They  were  attached  to  one  of  the  Santa  F^  companies^ 
whose  wagons  were  crowded  together  on  the  banks  above.  In 
the  midst  of  these,  crouching  over  a  smouldering  fire,  was  a 


12  THE    CALIFORNIA   AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

group  of  Indians,  belonging  to  a  remote  Mexican  tribe.  One 
or  two  French  hunters  from  the  mountains,  with  their  long  hair 
and  buckskin  dresses,  were  looking  at  the  boat ;  and  seated  on 
a  log  close  at  hand  were  three  men,  with  rifles  lying  across 
their  knees.  The  foremost  of  these,  a  tall,  strong  figure,  with 
a  clear  blue  eye  and  an  open,  intelligent  face,  might  very  well 
represent  that  race  of  restless  and  intrepid  pioneers  whose  axes 
and  rifles  have  opened  a  path  from  the  Alleghanies  to  the  west- 
ern prairies.  He  was  on  his  way  to  Oregon,  probably  a  more 
congenial  field  to  him  than  any  that  now  remained  on  this  side 
the  great  plains. 

Early  on  the  next  morning  we  reached  Kanzas,  about  five 
hundred  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri.  Here  we 
landed,  and  leaving  our  equipments  in  charge  of  my  good  friend 
Colonel  Chick,  whose  log-house  was  the  substitute  for  a  tavern, 
we  set  out  in  a  wagon  for  Westport,  where  we  hoped  to  pro- 
cure mules  and  horses  for  the  journey. 

It  was  a  remarkably  fresh  and  beautiful  May  morning. 
The  rich  and  luxuriant  woods  through  which  the  miserable 
road  conducted  us,  were  lighted  by  the  bright  sunshine  and 
enlivened  by  a  multitude  of  birds.  We  overtook  on  the  way 
our  late  fellow-travellers,  the  Kanzas  Indians,  who,  adorned 
with  all  their  finery,  were  proceeding  homeward  at  a  round 
paee ;  and  whatever  they  might  have  seemed  on  board  the 
boat,  they  made  a  very  striking  and  picturesque  feature  in  the 
forest  landscape. 

Westport  was  full  of  Indians,  whose  little  shaggy  ponies 
were  tied  by  dozens  along  the  houses  and  fences.  Sacs  and 
Foxes,  with  shaved  heads  and  painted  faces,  Shawanoes  and 
Delawares,  fluttering  in  calico  frocks  and  turbans,  Wyandoti 


THE    FRONTIER.  13 

dressed  like  white  men,  and>*a  few  wretched  Kanzas  wrapped 
in  old  blankets,  were  strolling  about  the  streets,  or  lounging  in 
and  out  of  the  shops  and  houses. 

As  I  stood  at  the  door  of  the  tavern,  I  saw  a  remarkable- 
looking  person  coming  up  the  street.  He  had  a  ruddy  face, 
garnished  with  the  stumps  of  a  bristly  red  beard  and  mous- 
tache ;  on  one  side  of  his  head  was  a  round  cap  with  a  knob  at 
the  top,  such  as  Scottish  laborers  sometimes  wear :  his  coat 
was  of  a  nondescript  form,  and  made  of  a  gray  Scotch  plaid, 
with  the  fringes  hanging  all  about  it ;  he  wore  pantaloons  of 
coarse  homespun,  and  hob-nailed  shoes ;  and  to  complete  his 
equipment,  a  little  black  pipe  was  stuck  in  one  corner  of  Ixis 
mouth.  In  this  curious  attire,  I  recognized  Captain  C.  of  the 
British  army,  who,  with  his  brother,  and  Mr.  R.  an  English 
gentleman,  was  bound  on  a  hunting  expedition  across  the  con- 
tinent. I  had  seen  the  captain  and  his  companions  at  St. 
Louis.  They  had  now  been  for  some  time  at  Westport,  mak- 
ing preparations  for  their  departure,  and  waiting  for  a  rein- 
forcement, since  they  were  too  few  in  number  to  attempt  it 
alone.  They  might,  it  is  true,  have  joined  some  of  the  parties 
of  emigrants  who  were  on  the  point  of  setting  out  for  Oregon 
and  California  ;  but  they  professed  great  disinclination  to  have 
any  connection  with  the  '  Kentucky  fellows.' 

The  captain  now  urged  it  upon  us,  that  we  should  join  forces 
and  proceed  to  the  mountains  in  company.  Feeling  no  greater 
partiality  for  the  society  of  the  emigrants  than  they  did,  we 
thought  the  arrangement  an  advantageous  one,  and  consented 
to  it.  Our  future  fellow-travellers  had  installed  themselves  in 
a  little  log-house,  where  we  found  them  all  surrounded  by  sad- 
dles,  harness,  guns,  pistols,  telescopes,  knives,   and  in  short 


% 


14  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

their  complete  appointments  for  the  prairie.  R.,  who  professed 
a  taste  for  natural  history,  sat  at  a  table  stuffing  a  woodpecker  ; 
the  brother  of  the  captain,  who  was  an  Irishman,  was  splicing 
a  trail  rope  on  the  floor,  as  he  had  been  an  amateur  sailor. 
The  captain  pointed  out,  with  much  complacency,  the  different 
articles  of  their  outfit.  '  You  see,'  said  he,  '  that  we  are  all  old 
travellers.  I  am  convinced  that  no  party  ever  went  upon  the 
prairie  better  provided.'  The  hunter  whom  they  had  employed, 
a  surly-looking  Canadian,  named  Sorel,  and  their  muleteer,  an 
American  from  St.  Louis,  were  lounging  about  the  building. 
In  a  little  log  stable  close  at  hand  were  their  horses  and  mules, 
selected  by  the  captain,  who  was  an  excellent  judge. 

The  alliance  entered  into,  we  left  them  to  complete  their 
arrangements,  while  we  pushed  our  own  to  all  convenient  speed. 
The  emigrants  for  whom  our  friends  professed  such  contempt, 
were  encamped  on  the  prairie  about  eight  or  ten  miles  distant, 
to  the  number  of  a  thousand  or  more,  and  new  parties  were 
constantly  passing  out  from  Independence  to  join  them.  They 
were  in  great  confusion,  holding  meetings,  passing  resolutions, 
and  drawing  up.  regulations,  but  unable  to  unite  in  the  choice 
of  leaders  to  conduct  them  across  the  prairie.  Being  at  leisure 
one  day,  I  rode  over  to  Independence.  The  town  was  crowded. 
A  multitude  of  shops  had  sprung  up  to  furnish  the  emigrants 
and  Santa  Fe  traders  with  necessaries  for  their  journey  ;  and 
there  was  an  incessant  hammering  and  banging  from  a  dozen 
blacksmiths'  sheds,  where  the  heavy  wagons  were  bemg  re- 
paired, and  the  horses  and  oxen  shod.  The  streets  were 
thronged  with  men,  horses,  and  mules.  While  I  was  in  the 
town,  a  train  of  emigrant  wagons  from  Illinois  passed  through, 
to  join  the  camp  on  the  prairie,  and  stopped  in  the  principa 


THE    FRONTIER.  16 

Street.  A  multitude  of  healthy  children's  faces  were  peeping 
out  from  under  the  covers  of  the  wagons.  Here  and  there  a 
buxom  damsel  was  seated  on  horseback,  holding  over  her  sun- 
burnt face  an  old  umbrella  or  a  parasol,  once  gaudy  enough, 
but  now  miserably  faded.  The  men,  very  sober-looking  coun- 
trymen, stood  about  their  oxen ;  and  as  I  passed  I  noticed  three 
old  fellows,  who,  with  their  long  whips  in  their  hands,  were 
zealously  discussing  the  doctrine  of  regeneration.  The  emi- 
grants, however,  are  not  all  of  this  stamp.  Among  them  are 
some  of  the  vilest  outcasts  in  the  country.  I  have  often  per- 
plexed  myself  to  divine  the  various  motives  that  give  impulse 
to  this  strange  migration  ;  but  whatever  they  may  be,  whether 
an  insane  hope  of  a  better  condition  in  life,  or  a  desire  of  shak- 
ing off  restraints  of  law  and  society,  or  mere  restlessness,  cer- 
tain it  is,  that  multitudes  bitterly  repent  the  journey,  and  after 
they  have  reached  the  land  of  proniise,  are  happy  enough  to 
escape  from  it. 

In  the  course  of  seven  or  eight  days  we  had  brought  our 
preparations  near  to  a  close.  Meanwhile  our  friends  had  com- 
pleted thei/s,  and  becoming  tired  of  Westport,  they  told  us  that 
they  would  set  out  in  advance,  and  wait  at  the  crossin^of  the 
Kanzas  till  we  should  come  up.  Accordingly  R.  and  the  mu- 
leteer went  forward  with  the  wagon  and  tent,  while  the  captain 
and  his  brother,  together  with  Sorel,  and  a  trapper  named  Bois- 
verd,  who  had  joined  them,  followed  with  the  band  of  horses. 
The  commencement  of  the  journey  was  ominous,  for  the  captain 
was  scarcely  a  mile  from  Westport,  riding  along  in  state  at  the 
head  of  his  party,  leading  his  intended  buffalo  horse  by  a  rope, 
when  a  tremendous  thunder-storm  came  on,  and  drenched  them 


16  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL- 

ell  to  the  skin.  They  hurried  on  to  reach  the  place  about  seven 
miles  off,  where  R.  was  to  have  had  the  camp  in  readiness  to 
receive  them.  But  this  prudent  person,  when  he  saw  the  storm 
approaching,  had  selected  a  sheltered  glade  in  the  woods,  where  . 
he  pitched  his  tent,  and  was  sipping  a  comfortable  cup  of  coffee 
while  the  captain  galloped  for  miles  beyond  through  the  rain  to 
look  for  him.  At  length  the  storm  cleared  away,  and  the 
sharp-eyed  trapper  succeeded  in  discovering  his  tent :  R.  had 
by  this  time  finished  his  coffee,  and  was  seated  on  a  buffalo-robe 
smoking  his  pipe.  The  captain  was  one  of  the  most  easy-tem- 
pered men  in  existence,  so  he  bore  his  ill-luck  with  great  com- 
posure, shared  the  dregs  of  the  coffee  with  his  brother,  and  laid 
down  to  sleep  in  his  wet  clothes. 

We  ourselves  had  our  share  of  the  deluge.  We  were  lead- 
ing a  pair  of  mules  to  Kanzas  when  the  storm  broke.  Such 
sharp  and  incessant  flashes  of  lightning,  such  stunning  and  con- 
tinuous thunder,  I  had  never  known  before.  The  wopds  were 
completely  obscured  by  the  diagonal  sheets  of  rain  that  fell 
with  a  heavy  roar,  and  rose  in  spray  from  the  ground  ;  and  the 
streams  rose  so  rapidly  that  we  could  hardly  ford  them.  At 
length,  looming  through  the  rain,  we  saw  the  log-house  of  Colo- 
nel Chick,  who  received  us  with  his  usual  bland  hospitality ; 
while  his  wife,  who,  though  a  little  soured  and  stiffened  by  too 
frequent  attendance  on  camp-meetings,  was  not  behind  him  in 
hospitable  feeling,  supplied  us  with  the  means  of  repairing  our 
drenched  and  bedraggled  condition.  The  storm  clearing  away 
at  about  sunset,  opened  a  noble  prospect  from  the  porch  of  the 
colonel's  house,  which  stands  upon  a  high  hill.  The  sun 
streamed  from  the  breaking  clouds  upon  the  swift  and  angry 


THE    FRONTIER. 


17 


Missouri,  and  on  the  immense  expanse  of  luxuriant  forest  that 
stretched  from  its  banks  back  to  the  distant  bluffs. 

Returning  on  the  next  day  to  Westport,  we  received  a  mes. 
sage  from  the  captain,  who  had  ridden  back  to  deliver  it  in  per- 
son, but  finding  that  we  were  in  Kanzas,  had  intrusted  it  with 
an  acquaintance  of  his  named  Vogel,  who  kept  a  small  grocery 
and  liquor  shop.  Whisky  by  the  way  circulates  more  freely 
in  Westport  than  is  altogether  safe  in  a  place  where  every  man 
carries  a  loaded  pistol  in  his  pocket.  As  we  passed  this  estab- 
lishment, we  saw  Vogel's  broad  German  face  and  knavish-look- 
ing eyes  thrust  from  his  door.  He  .said  he  had  something  to  tell 
us,  and  invited  us  to  take  a  dram.  Neither  his  liquor  nor  his 
message  were  very  palatable.  The  captain  had  returned  to 
give  us  notice  that  R.,  who  assumed  the  direction  of  his  party, 
had  determined  upon  another  route  from  that  agreed  upon  be- 
tween us ;  and  instead  of  taking  the  course  of  the  traders,  to 
pass  northward  by  Fort  Leavenworth,  and  follow  the  path 
marked  out  by  the  dragoons  in  their  expedition  of  last  summer. 
To  adopt  such  a  plan  without  consulting  us,  we  looked  upon  aa 
a  very  high-handed  proceeding  ;  but  suppressing  our  dissatis- 
faction as  well  as  we  could,  Ave  made  up  our  minds  to  join 
them  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  where  they  were  to  wait  for  us. 

Accordingly,  our  preparation  being  now  complete,  we  at- 
tempted one  fine  morning  to  commence  our  journey.  The  first 
step  was  an  unfortunate  one.  No  sooner  were  our  animals  put 
in  harness,  than  the  shaft-mule  reared  and  plunged,  burst  ropes 
and  straps,  and  nearly  flung  the  cart  into  the  Missouri.  Find- 
ing her  wholly  uncontrollable,  we  exchanged  her  for  another, 
'vith  which  we  were  furnished  bv  our  friend  Mr.  Boone  of 


18 


THE   CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 


Westport,  a  grandson  of  Daniel  Boone,  the  pioneer.  This  fore- 
taste of  prairie  experience  was  very  soon  followed  by  another. 
Westport  was  scarcely  out  of  sight,  when  we  encountered  a 
deep  muddy  gully,  of  a  species  that  afterward  became  but  too 
familiar  to  us  ;  and  here  for  the  space  of  an  hour  or  more  the 
cart  stuck  fast. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BREAKING     THE     ICE. 

"  Tbongh  (laggards  deem  it  bat  a  foolish  chase. 
And  marvel  men  should  quit  their  easy  chair. 
The  weary  way  and  long  long  league  to  trace  ; — 
Oh  there  is  sweetness  in  the  prairie  air, 
•^  •  And  life  that  bloated  ease  can  never  hope  to  share.  ' 

Cbilde  Haiioldi;. 

Both  Shaw  and  myself  were  tolerably  inured  to  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  travelling.  We  had  experienced  them  under  various 
forms,  and  a  birch  canoe  was  as  familiar  to  us  as  a  steamboat. 
The  restlessness,,  the  love  of  wilds  and  hatred  of  cities,  natural 
perhaps  in  early  years  to  every  unperverted  son  of  Adam,  was 
not  our  only  motive  for  undertaking  the  present  journey.  My 
companion  hoped  to  shake  off  the  effects  of  a  disorder  that  had 
impaired  a  constitution  originally  hardy  and  robust ;  and  I  was 
anxious  to  pursue  some  inquiries  relative  to  the  character  and 
usages  of  the  remote  Indian  nations,  being  already  familiar  with 
many  of  the  border  tribes. 

Emerging  from  the  mud-hole  where  we  last  took  leave  of 
the  reader,  we  pursued  our  way  for  some  time  along  the  nar- 
row track,  in  the  checkered  sunshine  and  shadow  of  the  woods. 


20  THE    CALIFORNIA    i  ND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

till  at  length,  issuing  forth  into  the  broad  light,  we  left  behind 
us  the  farthest  outskirts  of  that  great  forest,  that  once  spread 
unbroken  from  the  western  plains  to  the  shore  of  the  Atlantic. 
Looking  over  an  intervening  belt  of  shrubbery,  we  saw  the 
green,  ocean-like  expanse  of  prairie,  stretching  swell  over  swell 
to  the  horizon. 

It  was  a  mild,  calm  spring  day ;  a  day  when  one  is  more 
disposed  to  musing  and  reverie  than  to  action,  and  the  softest 
part  of  his  nature  is  apt  to  gain  the  ascendency.  I  rode  in  ad- 
vance of  the  party,  as  we  passed  through  the  shrubbery,  and  as 
a  nook  of  green  grass  offered  a  strong  temptation,  I  dismounted 
and  lay  down  there.  All  the  trees  and  saplings  were  in 
flower,  or  budding  into  fresh  leaf;  the  red  clusters  of  the  maple- 
blossoms  and  the  rich  flowers  of  the  Indian  apple  were  there  in 
profusion  ;  and  I  was  half  inclined  to  regret  leaving  behin(!  the 
land  of  gardens,  for  the  rude  and  stern  scenes  of  the  prairie  and 
the  mountains. 

Meanwhile  the  party  came  in  sight  from  out  of  the  bushes. 
Foremost  rode  Henry  Chatillon,  our  guide  and  hunter,  a  fine 
athletic  figure,  mo-anted  on  a  hardy  gray  Wyandot  pony.  He 
wore  a  white  blanket-coat,  a  broad  hat  of  felt,  moccasons,  and 
pantaloons  of  deer-skin,  ornamented  along  the  seams  with  rows 
of  long  fringes.  His  knife  was  stuck  in  his  belt ;  his  bullet- 
pouch  and  powder-horn  hung  at  his  side,  and  his  rifle  lay  before 
him,  resting  against  the  high  pommel  of  his  saddle,  which,  like 
all  his  equipments,  had  seen  hard  service,  and  was  much  the 
worse  for  wear.  Shaw  followed  close,  mounted  on  a  little  sorrel 
horse,  and  leading  a  larger  animal  by  a  rope.  His  outfit, 
which  resembled  mine,  had  been  provided  with  a  view  to  use 
rather  than  ornament.      It  consisted  of  a  plain,  black  Spanish 


BREAKING   THE   ICE.  21 

saddle,  with  holsters  of  heavy  pistols,  a  blanket  rolled  up  behind 
it,  and  the  trail-rope  attached  to  his  horse's  neck  hanging  coiled 
in  front.  He  carried  a  double-barrelled  smooth-bore,  while  I 
boasted  a  rifle  of  some  fifteen  pounds  weight.  At  that  time  our 
attire,  though  far  from  elegant,  bore  some  marks  of  civilization, 
and  offered  a  very  favorable  contrast  to  the  inimitable  shabbiness 
of  our  appearance  on  the  return  journey.  A  red  flannel  shirt, 
belted  around  the  waist  like  a  frock,  then  constituted  our  upper 
garment ;  moccasons  had  supplanted  our  failing  boots  ;  and  the 
remaining  essential  portion  of  our  attire  consisted  of  an  extra- 
ordinary article,  manufactured  by  a  squaw  out  of  smoked  buck- 
skin. Our  muleteer,  Delorier,  brought  up  the  rear  with  his 
cart,  wading  ankle-deep  in  the  mud,  alternately  puffing  at  his 
pipe,  and  ejaculating  in  his  prairie  patois :  "  Sucre  enfant  de 
garce  f"  as  one  of  the  mules  would  seem  to  recoil  before  some 
abyss  of  unusual  profundity.  The  cart  was  of  the  kind  that 
one  may  see  by  scores  around  the  market-place  in  Montreal, 
and  had  a  white  covering  to  protect  the  articles  within.  These 
were  our  provisions  and  a  tent,  with  ammunition,  blankets,  and 
presents  for  the  Indians. 

We  were  in  all  four  men  with  eight  animals ;  for  besides 
the  spare  horses  led  by  Shaw  and  myself,  an  additional  mule 
was  driven  along  with  us  as  a  reserve  in  case  of  accident. 

After  this  summing  up  of  our  forces,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
glance  at  the  characters  of  the  two  men  who  accompanied  us. 

Delorier  was  a  Canadian,  with  all  the  characteristics  of  the 
true  Jean  Baptiste.  Neither  fatigue,  exposure,  nor  hard  labor 
could  ever  impair  his  cheerfulness  and  gayety,  or  his  obse- 
quious politeness  to  his  bourgeois  ;  and  when  night  came,  he 
would  sit  down  bv  the  fire,  smoke  his  pipe,  ar.d  tell  stories  with 


22  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

the  utmost  contentment.  In  fact  the  prairie  was  his  congenia. 
element.  Henry  Chatillon  was  of  a  different  stamp.  When 
we  were  at  St.  Louis,  several  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  Fur  Com- 
pany had  kindly  offered  to  procure  for  us  a  hunter  and  guide 
suited  for  our  purposes,  and  on  coming  one  afternoon  to  the 
office,  we  found  there  a  tall  and  exceedingly  well-dressed  man, 
with  a  face  so  open  and  frank  that  it  attracted  our  notice  at 
once.  We  were  surprised  at  being  told  that  it  was  he  who 
wished  to  guide  us  to  the  mountains.  He  was  born  in  a  little 
French  town  near  St.  Louis,  and  from  the  age  of  fifteen  years 
had  been  constantly  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, employed  for  the  most  part  by  the  Company,  to  supply 
their  forts  with  buffalo  meat.  As  a  hunter,  he  had  but  one 
rival  in  the  whole  region,  a  man  named  Cimoneau,  with  whom, 
to  the  honor  of  both  of  them,  he  was  on  terms  of  the  closest 
friendship.  He  had  arrived  at  St.  Louis  the  day  before,  from 
the  mountains,  where  he  had  remained  for  four  years ;  and  he 
now  only  asked  to  go  and  spend  a  day  with  his  mother,  before 
setting  out  on  another  expedition.  His  age  was  about  thirty  ; 
he  was  six  feet  high,  and  very  powerfully  and  gracefully 
moulded.  The  prairies  had  been  his  school ;  he  could  neither 
read  nor  write,  but  he  had  a  natural  refinement  and  delicacy  of 
mind,  such  as  is  very  rarely  found  even  in  women.  His 
manly  face  was  a  perfect  mirror  of  uprightness,  simplicity,  and 
kindness  of  heart ;  he  had,  moreover,  a  keen  perception  of 
character,  and  a  tact  that  would  preserve  him  from  flagrant 
error  in  any  society.  Henry  had  not  the  restless  energy  of  an 
Anglo-American.  He  was  content  to  take  things  as  he  found 
them  ;  and  his  chief  fault  arose  from  an  excess  of  easy  gener- 
osity,  impelling  him  to  give  away  too  profusely  ever  to  thrive 


BREAKING    THE    ICE.  23 

in  the  world.  Yet  it  was  commonly  remarked  of  him,  that 
whatever  he  might  choose  to  do  with  what  belonged  to  himself, 
the  property  of  others  was  always  safe  in  his  hands.  His  bra- 
very  was  as  much  celebrated  in  the  mountains  as  his  skill  in 
hunting  ;  but  it  is  characteristic  of  him  that  in  a  country  where 
the  rifle  is  the  chief  arbiter  between  man  and  man,  Henry  was 
very  seldom  involved  in  quarrels.  Once  or  twice,  indeed, 
his  quiet  good  nature  had  been  mistaken  and  presumed  upon, 
but  the  consequences  of  the  error  were  so  formidable,  that  no 
one  was  ever  known  to  repeat  it.  No  better  evidence  of  the  in- 
trepidity of  his  temper  could  be  wished,  than  the  common  report 
that  he  had  killed  more  than  thirty  grizzly  bears.  He  was  a 
proof  of  what  unaided  nature  will  sometimes  do.  I  have  never, 
in  the  city  or  in  the  wilderness,  met  a  better  man  than  my 
noble  and  true-hearted  friend,  Henry  Chatillon. 

We  were  soon  free  of  the  woods  and  bushes,  and  fairly 
upon  the  broad  prairie.  Now  and  then  a  Shawanoe  passed  us. 
riding  his  little  shaggy  pony  at  a  '  lope ;'  his  calico  shirt,  his 
gaudy  sash,  and  the  gay  handkerchief  bound  around  his  snaky 
hair,  fluttering  in  the  wind.  At  noon  we  stopped  to  rest  not  far 
from  a  little  creek,  replete  with  frogs  and  young  turtles. 
There  had  been  an  Indian  encampment  at  the  place,  and  the 
framework  of  their  lodges  still  remained,  enabling  us  very 
easily  to  gain  a  shelter  from  the  sun,  by  merely  spreading  one 
or  two  blankets  over  them.  Thus  shaded,  we  sat  upon  our 
saddles,  and  Shaw  for  the  first  time  lighted  his  favorite  Indian 
pipe ;  while  Delorier  was  squatted  over  a  hot  bed  of  coals, 
shading  his  eyes  with  one  hand,  and  holding  a  little  stick  in  the 
other,  with  which  he  regulated  the  hissing  contents  of  the  fry- 
ing-pan.    The  horses  were  turned  to  feed  among  the  scattered 


24  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

bushes  of  a  low  oozy  meadow.  A  drowsy  spring-like  sultri- 
ness pervaded  the  air,  and  the  voices  of  ten  thousand  young 
frogs  and  insects,  just  awakened  into  life,  rose  in  varied  chorus 
from  the  creek  and  the  meadows. 

Scarcely  were  we  seated  when  a  visitor  approached.  This 
was  an  old  Kanzas  Indian  ;  a  man  of  distinction,  if  one  might 
judge  from  his  dress.  His  head  was  shaved  and  painted  red, 
and  from  the  tuft  of  hair  remaining  on  the  crown  dangled  sev- 
eral eacle's  feathers,  and  the  tails  of  two  or  three  rattlesnakes. 
His  cheeks,  too,  were  daubed  with  Vermillion  ;  his  ears  were 
adorned  with  green  glass  pendants  ;  a  collar  of  grizzly  bears' 
claws  surrounded  his  neck,  and  several  large  necklaces  of 
wampum  hung  on  his  breast.  Having  shaken  us  by  the  hand 
witli  a  cordial  grunt  of  salutation,  the  old  man,  dropping  liis 
red  blanket  from  his  shoulders,  sat  down  cross-legged  on  the 
ground.  In  the  absence  of  liquor,  we  offered  him  a  cup  of 
sweetened  water,  at  which  he  ejaculated  '  Good  !'  and  was  be- 
ginning to  tell  us  how  great  a  man  he  was,  and  how  many 
Pawnees  he  had  killed,  when  suddenly  a  motley  concourse  ap- 
peared wading  across  the  creek  toward  us.  They  filed  past  in 
rapid  succession,  men,  women  and  children  :  some  were  on 
horseback,  some  on  foot,  but  all  were  alike  squalid  and 
wretched.  Old  squaws,  mounted  astride  of  shaggy,  meagre 
little  ponies,  with  perhaps  one  or  two  snake-eyed  children 
seated  behind  them,  clinging  to  their  tattered  blankets ;  tall 
lank  young  men  on  foot,  with  bows  and  arrows  in  their  hands ; 
and  girls  whose  native  ugliness  not  all  the  charms  of  glass 
beads  and  scarlet  cloth  could  disguise,  made  up  the  procession  ; 
although  here  and  there  was  a  man  who,  like  our  visitor,  seemed 
to  hold  some  rank  in  this  respectable  community.     They  were 


BREAKING    THE    ICE.  25 

the  dregs  of  the  Kanzas  nation,  who,  while  their  betters  were 
gone  to  hunt  the  bullalo,  had  left  the  village  on  a  begging  ex- 
pedition to  Westport. 

When  this  ragamufTin  horde  had  passed,  we  caught  our 
horses,  saddled,  harnessed,  and  resumed  our  journey.  Fording 
the  creek,  the  low  roofs  of  a  number  of  rude  buildings  appeared, 
rising  from  a  cluster  of  groves  and  woods  on  the  left ;  and  rid- 
ing up  through  a  long  lane,  amid  a  profusion  of  wild  roses  and 
early  spring  flowers,  we  found  the  log-church  and  school- 
houses  belonging  to  the  Methodist  Shawanoe  Mission.  The  In- 
dians were  on  the  point  of  gathering  to  a  religious  meeting. 
Some  scores  of  them,  tall  men  in  half-civilized  dress,  were 
seated  on  wooden  benches  under  the  trees ;  while  their  horses 
were  tied  to  the  sheds  and  fences.  Their  chief.  Parks,  a 
remarkably  large  and  athletic  man,  was  just  arrived  from 
Westport,  where  he  owns  a  trading  establishment.  Beside  this, 
he  has  a  fine  farm  and  a  considerable  number  of  slaves.  In- 
deed the  Shawanoes  have  made  greater  progress  in  agriculture 
than  any  other  tribe  on  the  Missouri  frontier ;  and  both  in 
appearance  and  in  character  form  a  marked  contrast  to  our 
late  acquaintance,  the  Kanzas. 

A  few  hours'  ride  brought  us  to  the  banks  of  the  river 
Kanzas.  Traversing  the  woods  that  lined  it,  and  ploughing 
through  the  deep  sand,  we  encamped  not  far  from  the  bank,  at 
the  Lower  Delaware  crossing.  Our  tent  was  erected  for  the 
first  time,  on  a  meadow  close  to  the  woods,  and  the  camp  pre- 
parations being  complete,  we  began  to  think  of  supper.  An 
old  Delaware  woman,  of  some  three  hundred  pounds  weighty 
sat  in  the  porch  of  a  little  log-house,  close  to  the  water,  and  a 
very  pretty  half-breed  girl  was  engaged,   under  her  superin- 


26  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

tendence,  in  feeding  a  large  flock  of  turkeys  that  were  flutter 
ing  and  gobbling  about  tlie  door.  But  no  ofTers  of  money,  oi 
even  of  tobacco,  could  induce  her  to  part  with  one  of  her  fa- 
vorites :  so  1  took  my  rifle,  to  see  if  the  woods  or  tlie  river 
could  furnish  us  any  thing.  A  multitude  of  quails  were  plain- 
tively whistling  in  the  woods  and  meadows  ;  but  nothing  appro- 
priate to  the  rifle  was  to  be  seen,  except  three  buzzards,  seated 
on  the  spectral  limbs  of  an  old  dead  sycamore,  that  thrust  itself 
out  over  the  river  from  the  dense  sunny  wall  of  fresh  foliage. 
Their  ugly  heads  were  drawn  down  between  their  shoulders, 
and  they  seemed  to  luxuriate  in  the  soft  sunshine  that  was 
pouring  from  the  west.  As  they  offered  no  epicurean  tempta- 
tions, I  refrained  from  disturbing  their  enjoyment ;  but  con- 
tented myself  with  admiring  the  calm  beauty  of  the  sunset,  for 
the  river,  eddying  swiftly  in  deep  purple  shadows  between  the 
impending  woods,  foi'med  a  wild  but  tranquillizing  scene. 

When  I  returned  to  the  camp,  I  found  Shaw  and  an  old 
Indian  seated  on  the  ground  in  close  conference,  passing  the 
pipe  between  them.  The  oM  man  was  explaining  that  he  loved 
the  whites,  and  had  an  especial  partiality  for  tobacco.  Delorier 
was  arranging  upon  the  ground  our  service  of  tin  cups  and 
plates ;  and  as  other  viands  were  not  to  be  had,  he  set  before  us 
a  repast  of  biscuit  and  bacon,  and  a  large  pot  of  coffee.  Un- 
sheathing our  knives,  we  attacked  it,  disposed  of  the  greater 
part,  and  tossed  the  residue  to  the  Indian.  Meanwhile  our 
horses,  now  hobbled  for  the  first  time,  stood  among  the  trees, 
with  their  fore-legs  tied  together,  in  great  disgust  and  astonish- 
ment. They  seemed  by  no  means  to  relish  this  foretaste  of 
what  was  before  them.  Mine,  in  particular,  had  conceived  a 
mortal  aversion  to  the  prairie  life.     One  of  them,  christened 


BREAKING    THE    ICE.  27 

Hendrick,  an  animal  whose  streiij^th  and  hardihood  were  his 
only  merits,  and  wlio  yielded  to  notliing  but  the  cogent  argu- 
ments of  the  whip,  looked  toward  us  with  an  indignant  counte- 
nance, as  if  he  meditated  avenging  his  wrongs  with  a  kick. 
The  other,  Pontiac,  a  good  horse,  though  of  plebeian  lineage, 
stood  with  his  head  drooping  and  his  mane  hanging  about  his 
eyes,  with  the  grieved  and  sulky  air  of  a  lubberly  boy  sent  ofT 
to  school.  Poor  Pontiac  !  his  forebodings  were  but  too  just ; 
for  when  I  last  heard  from  him,  he  was  under  the  lash  of  an 
Ogillallah  brave,  on  a  war  party  against  the  Crows. 

As  it  grew  dark,  and  the  voices  of  the  whippoorwills  suc- 
ceeded the  whistle  of  the  quails,  we  removed  our  saddles  to  the 
tent,  to  serve  as  pillows,  spread  our  blankets  upon  the  ground, 
and  prepared  to  bivouac  for  the  first  time  that  season.  Each 
man  selected  the  place  in  the  tent  which  he  was  to  occupy  for 
the  journey.  To  Delorier,  however,  was  assigned  the  cart,  into 
which  he  could  creep  in  wet  weather,  and  find  a  much  better 
shelter  than  his  bourgeois  enjoyed  in  the  tent. 

The  river  Kanzas  at  this  point  forms  the  boundary  line  be- 
tween the  country  of  the  Shawanoes  and  that  of  the  Delawares. 
We  crossed  it  on  the  following  day,  rafting  over  our  horses  and 
equipage  with  much  difficulty,  and  unlading  our  cart  in  order 
to  make  our  way  up  the  steep  ascent  on  the  farther  bank.  It 
was  a  Sunday  morning ;  warm,  tranquil  and  bright ;  and  a 
perfect  stillness  reigned  over  the  rough  inclosures  and  neglected 
fields  of  the  Delawares,  except  the  ceaseless  hum  and  chirrup- 
ping  of  myriads  of  insects.  Now  and  then  an  Indian  rode  past 
on  his  way  to  the  meeting-house,  or  through  the  dilapidated 
entrance  of  some  shattered  log-house,  an  old  woman  might  be 
discerned,  enjoying  all  the  luxury  of  idleness.     There  was  no 


38  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

village  bell,  for  the  Delawares  have  none  ;  and  yet  upon  that 
forlorn  and  rude  settlement  was  the  same  spirit  of  Sabbath  re- 
pose and  tranquillity  as  in  some  little  New  England  village 
among  the  mountains  of  New  Hampshire,  or  the  Vermont 
woods. 

Having  at  present  no  leisure  for  such  reflections,  we  pursued 
our  journey.  A  military  road  led  from  this  point  to  Fort  Lea- 
venworth, and  for  many  miles  the  farms  and  cabins  of  the  Del- 
awares were  scattered  at  short  intervals  on  either  hand.  The 
little  rude  structures  of  logs,  erected  usually  on  the  borders  of 
a  tract  of  woods,  made  a  picturesque  feature  in  the  landscape. 
But  the  scenery  needed  no  foreign  aid.  Nature  had  done 
enough  for  it;  and  the  alternation  of  rich  green  prairies  and 
groves  that  stood  in  clusters,  or  lined  the  banks  of  the  numer- 
ous little  streams,  had  all  the  softened  and  polished  beauty  of  a 
region  that  has  been  for  centuries  under  the  hand  of  man.  At 
that  early  season,  too,  it  was  in  the  height  of  its  freshness  and 
luxuriance.  The  woods  were  flushed  with  the  red  buds  of  the 
maple ;  there  were  frequent  flowering  shrubs  unknown  in  the 
east ;  and  the  green  swells  of  the  prairie  were  thickly  studded 
with  blossoms. 

Encamping  near  a  spring,  by  the  side  of  a  hill,  we  resumed 
our  journey  in  the  morning,  and  early  in  the  afternoon  had 
arrived  within  a  few  miles  of  Fort  Leavenworth.  The  road 
crossed  a  stream  densely  bordered  with  trees,  and  running  in 
the  bottom  of  a  deep  woody  hollow.  We  were  about  to  descend 
into  it,  when  a  wild  and  confused  procession  appeared,  passing 
through  the  water  below,  and  coming  up  the  steep  ascent 
toward  us.  We  stopped  to  let  them  pass.  They  were  Dela- 
wares, just  returned  from  a  hunting  expedition.     All,  both  men 


BREAKING    THE    ICE.  29 

and  women,  were  mounted  on  horseback,  and  drove  along  with 
them  a  considerable  number  of  pack-mules,  laden  with  the  furs 
they  had  taken,  together  with  the  buffalo-robes,  kettles,  and 
other  articles  of  their  travelling  equipment,  which,  as  well  as 
their  clotiiing  and  their  weapons,  had  a  worn  and  dingy  aspect, 
as  if  they  had  seen  hard  service  of  late.  At  the  rear  of  the 
parly  was  an  old  man,  who,  as  he  came  up,  stopped  his  horse 
to  speak  to  us.  He  rode  a  little  tough  shaggy  pony,  with  mane 
and  tail  well  knotted  with  burs,  and  a  rusty  Spanish  bit  in  its 
mouth,  to  which,  by  way  of  reins,  vvas  attached  a  string  of  raw 
hide.  His  saddle,  robbed  probably  from  a  Mexican,  had  no 
covering,  being  merely  a  tree  of  the  Spanish  form,  with  a  piece 
of  grisly  bear's  skin  laid  over  it,  a  pair  of  rude  wooden  stirrups 
attached,  and  in  the  absence  of  girth,  a  thong  of  hide  passing 
around  the  horse's  belly.  The  rider's  dark  features  and  keen 
snaky  eye  were  unequivocally  Indian.  He  wore  a  buckskin 
frock,  which,  like  his  fringed  leggings,  was  well  polished  and 
blackened  by  grease  and  long  service  ;  and  an  old  handker- 
chief was  tied  around  his  head.  Resting  on  the  saddle  before 
him,  lay  his  rifle ;  a  weapon  in  the  use  of  which  the  Dela- 
wares  are  skilful,  though,  from  its  weight,  the  distant  prairie 
Indians  are  too  lazy  to  carry  it. 

'  Who  's  your  chief?'  he  immediately  inquired. 

Henry  Chatillon  pointed  to  us.  The  old  Delaware  fixed 
his  eyes  intently  upon  us  for  a  moment,  and  then  sententiously 
remarked : 

'  No  good  !  Too  young  !'  With  this  flattering  comment 
he  left  us,  and  rode  after  his  people. 

This  tribe,  the  Delawares,  once  the  peaceful  allies  of 
William  Penn,  the  tributaries  of  the  conquering  Iroquois,  are 


80  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

now  the  most  adventurous  and  dreaded  warriors  upon  the 
prairies.  They  make  war  upon  remote  tribes,  the  very  names 
of  which  were  unknown  to  their  fathers  in  their  ancient  seats 
in  Pennsylvania  ;  and  they  push  these  new  quarrels  with  true 
Indian  rancor,  sending  out  their  little  war-parties  as  far  as 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  into  the  Mexican  territories.  Their 
neighbors  and  former  confederates,  the  Shawanoes,  who  are 
tolerable  farmers,  are  in  a  prosperous  condition ;  but  the  Dela- 
wares  dwindle  every  year,  from  the  number  of  men  lost  in 
their  warlike  expeditions. 

Soon  after  leaving  this  party,  we  saw,  stretching  on  the 
right,  the  forests  that  follow  the  course  of  the  Missouri,  and 
the  deep  woody  channel  through  which  at  this  point  it  runs. 
At  a  distance  in  front  were  the  white  barracks  of  Fort  Leaven- 
worth, just  visible  through  the  trees  upon  an  eminence  above  a 
bend  of  the  river.  A  wide  green  meadow,  as  level  as  a  lake, 
lay  between  us  and  the  Missouri,  and  upon  this,  close  to  a  line 
of  trees  that  bordered  a  little  brook,  stood  the  tent  of  the  Captain 
and  his  companions,  with  their  horses  feeding  around  it ;  but 
they  themselves  were  invisible.  Wright,  their  muleteer,  was 
there,  seated  on  the  tongue  of  the  wagon,  repairing  his  harness. 
Boisverd  stood  cleaning  his  rifle  at  the  door  of  the  tent,  and 
Sorel  lounged  idly  about.  On  closer  examination,  however, 
we  discovered  the  Captain's  brother.  Jack,  sitting  in  the  tent, 
at  his  old  occupation  of  splicing  trail-ropes.  He  welcomed  us 
in  his  broad  Irish  brogue,  and  said  that  his  brother  was  fishing 

in  the  river,  and  R gone  to  the  garrison.     They  returned 

before  sunset.  Meanwhile  we  erected  our  own  tent  not  far 
off,  and  after  supper,  a  council  was  held,  in  which  it  was  re- 
solved  to  remain  one  day  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  and  on  the  next 


BREAKING   THE    ICE.  31 

to  bid  a  final  adieu  to  the  frontier ;  or  in  the  phraseology  of 
the  region,  to  'jump  off.'  Our  deliberations  were  conducted 
by  the  ruddy  light  from  a  distant  swell  of  the  prairie,  where  the 
long  dry  grass  of  last  summer  was  on  fire. 


CHAPTER  III. 

FORT      LEAVENWORTH. 

"  I've  wandered  wide  and  wandered  far, 
But  never  have  I  met, 
In  all  this  lovely  western  land, 
A  spot  more  lovely  yet." 

Bryant. 

On  the  next  morning  we  rode  to  Fort  Leavenworth.  Colo- 
nel, now  General  Kearney,  to  whom  I  had  had  the  honor  of  an 
introduction  when  at  St.  Louis,  was  just  arrived,  and  received 
us  at  his  quarters  with  the  high-bred  courtesy  habitual  to  him. 
Fort  Leavenworth  is  in  fact  no  fort,  being  without  defensive 
works,  except  two  block-houses.  No  rumors  of  war  had  as 
yet  disturbed  its  tranquillity.  In  the  square  grassy  area,  sur- 
rounded  by  barracks  and  the  quarters  of  the  officers,  the  men 
were  passing  and  repassing,  or  lounging  among  the  trees  j 
although  not  many  weeks  afterwards  it  presented  a  different 
scene  ;  for  here  the  very  offscourings  of  the  frontier  were  con. 
gregated,  to  be  marshalled  for  the  expedition  against  Santa  Fe. 

Passing  through  the  garrison,  we  rode  toward  the  Kickapoo 
village,  five  or  six  miles  beyond.  The  path,  a  rather  dubious 
and    uncertain   one,    led    us    along   the    ridge   of  high    bluffs 


\ 


FORT    LEAVENWORTH.  33 

that  border  the  Missouri ;  and  by  looking  to  the  right  or  to 
the  left,  we  could  enjoy  a  strange  contrast  of  opposite  scenery. 
On  the  left  stretched  the  prairie,  rising  into  swells  and  undula- 
tions, thickly  sprinkled  with  groves,  or  gracefully  expanding 
mto  wide  grassy  basins,  of  miles  in  extent ;  while  its  curva- 
tures, swelling  against  the  horizon,  were  often  surmounted  by 
lines  of  sunny  woods  ;  a  scene  to  which  the  freshness  of  the 
season  and  the  peculiar  mellowness  of  the  atmosphere  gave 
additional  softness.  Below  us,  on  the  right,  was  a  tract  of 
ragged  and  broken  woods.  We  could  look  down  on  the  sum- 
mits of  the  trees,  some  living  and  some  dead  ;  some  erect, 
others  leaning  at  every  angle,  and  others  still  piled  in  masses 
together  by  the  passage  of  a  hurricane.  Beyond  their  extreme 
verge,  the  turbid  waters  of  the  Missouri  were  discernible 
through  the  boughs,  rolling  powerfully  along  at  the  foot  of  the 
woody  declivities  on  its  farther  bank. 

The  path  soon  after  led  inland  ;  and  as  we  crossed  an  open 
meadow,  we  saw  a  cluster  of  buildings  on  a  rising  ground 
before  us,  with  a  crowd  of  people  surrounding  them.  They 
were  the  storehouse,  cottage,  and  ste.bles  of  the  Kickapoo  trader's 
establishment.  Just  at  that  moment,  as  it  chanced,  he  was 
beset  with  half  the  Indians  of  the  settlement.  They  had  tied 
their  wretched,  neglected  little  ponies  by  dozens  along  the 
fences  and  out-houses,  and  were  either  lounging  about  the 
place,  or  crowding  into  the  trading-house.  Here  were  faces 
of  various  colors ;  red,  green,  white,  and  black,  curiously 
intermingled  and  disposed  over  the  visage  in  a  variety  of 
patterns.  Calico  shirts,  red  and  blue  blankets,  brass  ear-rings, 
wampum  necklaces,  appeared  in  profusion.  The  trader  was 
a  blue-eyed,  open-faced  man,  who  neither  in  his  manners  nor 


94  THE   CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

his  appearance  betrayed  any  of  the  roughness  of  the  frontier  ; 
though  just  at  present  he  was  obliged  to  keep  a  lynx  eye  on  his 
suspicious  customers,  who,  men  and  women,  were  climbing  on 
his  counter,  and  seating  themselves  among  his  boxes  and  bales. 

The  village  itself  was  not  far  off,  and  sufficiently  illustrated 
the  condition  of  its  unfortunate  and  self-abandoned  occupants. 
Fancy  to  yourself  a  little  swift  stream,  working  its  devious  way 
down  a  woody  valley  ;  sometimes  wholly  hidden  under  logs 
and  fallen  trees,  sometimes  issuing  forth  and  spreading  into 
a  broad,  clear  pool-;  and  on  its  banks  in  little  nooks  cleared 
away  among  the  trees,  miniature  log-houses,  in  utter  ruin  and 
neglect.  A  labyrinth  of  narrow,  obstructed  paths  connected 
these  habitations  one  w^ith  another.  Sometimes  we  met  a  stray 
calf,  a  pig  or  a  pony,  belonging  to  some  of  the  villagers,  who 
usually  lay  in  the  sun  in  front  of  their  dwellings,  and  looked  on 
us  with  cold,  suspicious  eyes  as  we  approached.  Farther  on, 
in  place  of  the  log-huts  of  the  Kickapoos,  we  found  the  pukwi 
lodges  of  their  neighbors,  the  Pottawattamies,  whose  condition 
seemed  no  better  than  theirs. 

Growing  tired  at  last,  and  exhausted  by  the  excessive  heat 
and  sultriness  of  the  day,  we  returned  to  our  friend,  the  trader. 
By  this  time  the  crowd  around  him  had  dispersed,  and  left  him 
at  leisure.  He  invited  us  to  his  cottage,  a  little  white-and- 
green  building,  in  the  style  of  the  old  French  settlements  ;  and 
ushered  us  into  a  neat,  well-furnished  room.  The  blinds  were 
closed,  and  the  heat  and  glare  of  the  sun  excluded  :  the  room 
was  as  cool  as  a  cavern.  .  It  was  neatly  carpeted  too,  and 
furnished  in  a  manner  that  we  hardly  expected  on  the  frontier. 
The  sofas,  chairs,  tables,  and  a  well-filled  book-case,  would  not 
have  disgraced  an  eastern  city  ;  though  there  were  one  or  two 


FORT    LEAVENWORTH.  35 

little  tokens  that  indicated  the  rather  questionable  civilization 
of  the  region.  A  pistol  loaded  and  capped,  lay  on  the  mantel- 
piece ;  and  through  the  glass  of  the  book-case,  peeping  above 
the  works  of  John  Milton,  glittered  the  handle  of  a  very  mis- 
chievous-looking knife. 

Our  host  went  out,  and  returned  with  iced  water,  glasses, 
and  a  bottle  of  excellent  claret ;  a  refreshment  most  welcome 
in  the  extreme  heat  of  the  day  ;  and  soon  after  appeared  a 
merry,  laughing  woman,  who  must  have  been,  a  year  or  two 
before,  a  very  rich  and  luxuriant  specimen  of  Creole  beauty. 
She  came  to  say  that  lunch  was  ready  in  the  next  room.  Our 
hostess  evidently  lived  on  the  sunny  side  of  life,  and  troubled 
herself  with  none  of  its  cares.  She  sat  down  and  entertained 
us  while  we  were  at  table  with  anecdotes  of  fishing-parties, 
frolics,  and  the  officers  at  the  fort.  Taking  leave  at  length  of 
the  hospitable  trader  and  his  friend,  we  rode  back  to  the  gar- 
rison. 

Shaw  passed  on  to  the  camp,  while  I  remained  to  call  upon 
Colonel  Kearney.  I  found  him  still  at  table.  There  sat  our 
friend  the  Captain,  in  the  same  remarkable  habiliments  in 
which  we  saw  him  at  Westport ;  the  black  pipe,  however, 
being  for  the  present  laid  aside.  He  dangled  his  little  cap  in 
his  hand,  and  talked  of  steeple-chases,  touching  occasionally 
upon   his  anticipated  exploits  in  buffalo-hunting.     There,  too, 

was  R ,  somewhat  more  elegantly  attired.     For  the  last 

time,  we  tasted  the  luxuries  of  civilization,  and  drank  adieus  to 
it  in  wine  good  enough  to  make  us  almost  regret  the  leave- 
taking.  Then,  mounting,  we  rode  together  to  the  camp,  where 
every  thing  was  in  readiness  for  departure  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

'jumping    off. 

'Wb  forded  the  river  and  clorab  the  high  hill, 
Never  our  steeds  for  a  day  stood  still ; 
Whether  we  lay  in  the  cave  or  the  shed, 
Our  sleep  fell  soft  on  the  hardest  bed  ; 
Whether  we  conehed  in  our  rough  capote, 
On  the  rougher  plank  of  our  gliding  boat, 
Or  stretched  on  the  sand,  or  our  saddles  spread 
As  a  pillow  beneath  the  restiug  head, 

Fresh  we  woke  upon  the  morrow ; 
All  our  thoughts  and  words  had  scope, 
We  had  health  and  we  had  hope, 

Toil  and  travel,  bat  na  sorrow,' 

Siege  of  Corikth. 

The  reader  need  not  be  told  that  John  Bull  never  leaves 
home  without  encumbering  himself  with  the  greatest  possible 
load  of  luggage.  Our  companions  were  no  exception  to  the 
rule.  They  had  a  wagon  drawn  by  six  mules,  and  crammed 
with  provisions  for  six  months,  besides  ammunition  enough  for 
a  regiment ;  spare  rifles  and  fowling-pieces,  ropes  and  harness ; 
personal  baggage,  and  a  miscellaneous  assortment  of  articles, 
which  produced  infinite  embarrassment  on  the  journey.  They 
had  also  decorated   their  persons  with  telescopes  and   portable 


'JTTMPING   OFF.'  8T 

compasses,  and  carried  English  double-barrelled  rifles  of  six- 
teen to  the  pound  calibre,  slung  to  their  saddles  in  dragoon 
fashion. 

By  sunrise  on  the  twenty-third  of  May  we  had  breakfasted  ; 
the  tents  were  levelled,  the  animals  saddled  and  harnessed, 
and  all  was  prepared.  '  Avance  done  !  get  up  !'  cried  Delo- 
rier  from  his  seat  in  front  of  the  cart.  Wright,  our  friends' 
muleteer,  after  some  swearing  and  lashing,  got  his  insub- 
ordinate train  in  motion,  and  then  the  whole  party  filed  from 
the  ground.  Thus  we  bade  a  long  adieu  to  bed  and  board,  and 
the  principles  of  Blackstone's  Commentaries.  The  day  was  a 
most  auspicious  one ;  and  yet  Shaw  and  I  felt  certain  mis- 
givings, which  in  the  sequel  proved  but  too  well  founded.     We 

had  just  learned  that  though  R had  taken  it  upon  him  to 

adopt  this  course  without  consulting  us,  not  a  single  man  in  the 
party  was  acquainted  with  it ;  and  the  absurdity  of  our  friend's 
high-handed  measure  very  soon  became  manifest.  His  plan 
was  to  strike  the  trail  of  several  companies  of  dragoons,  who  last 
summer  had  made  an  expedition  under  Colonel  Kearney  to 
Fort  Laramie,  and  by  this  means  to  reach  the  grand  trail  of 
the  Oregon  emigrants  up  the  Platte. 

We  rode  for  an  hour  or  two,  when  a  familiar  cluster  of 
buildings  appeared  on  a  little  hill.  '  Hallo !'  shouted  the 
Kickapoo  trader  from  over  his  fence,  '  where  are  you  going  V 
A  few  rather  emphatic  exclamations  might  have  been  heard 
among  us,  when  we  found  that  we  had  gone  miles  out  of  our 
way,  and  were  not  advanced  an  inch  toward  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. So  we  turned  in  the  direction  the  trader  indicated  ;  and 
with  the  sun  for  a  guide,  began  to  trace  a  '  bee-line'  across  the 
prairies      We  struggled  through  copses  and  lines  of  wood  ;  we 


38  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

waded  brooks  and  pools  of  water ;  we  traversed  prairies  as 
green  as  an  emerald,  expanding  before  us  for  mile  after  mile ; 
wider  and  more  wild  than  the  wastes  Mazeppa  rode  over: 

Man  nor  brute, 
Nor  dint  of  hoof,  nor  print  of  foot, 
Lay  in  the  wild  laxnriant  soil ; 
No  sign  of  travel ;  none  of  toil ; 
The  very  air  was  mute.' 

Riding  in  advance,  as  we  passed  over  one  of  these  great 
plains,  we  looked  back  and  saw  the  line  of  scattered  horsemen 
stretching  for  a  mile  or  more ;  and  far  in  the  rear,  against  the 
horizon,  the  white  wagons  creeping  slowly  along.  '  Here  we 
are  at  last !'  shouted  the  Captain.  And  in  truth  we  had  struck 
upon  the  traces  of  a  large  body  of  horse.  We  turned  joy- 
fully and  followed  this  new  course,  with  tempers  somewhat 
improved  ;  and  toward  sunset  encamped  on  a  high  swell  of  the 
prairie,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  lazy  stream  soaked  along  through 
clumps  of  rank  grass.  It  was  getting  dark.  We  turned  the 
horses  loose  to  feed.  '  Drive  down  the  tent-pickets  hard,'  said 
Henry  Chatillon, '  it  is  going  to  blow.'  We  did  so,  and  secured 
the  tent  as  well  as  we  could ;  for  the  sky  had  changed  totally, 
and  a  fresh  damp  smell  in  the  wind  warned  us  that  a  stormy 
night  was  likely  to  succeed  the  hot  clear  day.  The  prairie 
also  wore  a  new  aspect,  and  its  vast  swells  had  grown  black 
and  sombre  under  the  shadow  of  the  clouds.  The  thunder 
soon  began  to  growl  at  a  distance.  Picketing  and  hobbling  the 
horses  among  the  rich  grass  at  the  foot  of  the  slope,  where  we 
encamped,  we  gained  a  shelter  just  as  the  rain  began  to  fall ; 
and  sat  at  the  opening  of  the  tent,  watching  the  proceedings  of 
the  Captain.     In  defiance  of  the  rain,  he  was  stalking  among 


'jumping  off.'  89 

the  horses,  wrapped  in  an  old  Scotch  plaid.  An  extreme 
solicitude  tormented  him,  lest  some  of  his  favorites  should 
escape,  or  some  accident  sliould  befall  them ;  and  he  cast  an 
anxious  eye  toward  three  wolves  who  were  sneaking  along  over 
the  dreary  surface  of  the  plain,  as  if  he  dreaded  some  hostile 
demonstration  on  their  part. 

On  the  next  morning  we  had  gone  but  a  mile  or  two,  when 
we  came  to  an  extensive  belt  of  woods,  through  the  midst  of 
which  ran  a  stream,  wide,  deep,  and  of  an  appearance  particu- 
larly muddy  and  treacherous.  Delorier  was  in  advance  with 
his  cart ;  he  jerked  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  lashed  his  mules, 
and  poured  forth  a  volley  of  Canadian  ejaculations.  In  plunged 
the  cart,  but  midway  it  stuck  fast.  Delorier  leaped  out  knee- 
deep  in  water,  and  by  dint  of  sacres  and  a  vigorous  application 
of  the  whip,  he  urged  the  mules  out  of  the  slough.  Then 
approached  the  long  team  and  heavy  wagon  of  our  friends ; 
but  it  paused  on  the  brink. 

'  Now  my  advice  is  — ,'  began  the  Captain,  who  had  been 
anxiously  contemplating  the  muddy  gulf. 

'Drive  on!'  cried  R . 

But  Wright,  the  muleteer,  apparently  had  not  as  yet  de- 
cided the  point  in  his  own  mind  ;  and  he  sat  still  in  his  seat 
on  one  of  the  shaft-mules,  whistling  in  a  low  contemplative 
strain  to  himself. 

'  My  advice  is,'  resumed  the  Captain,  '  that  we  unload  ;  for 
I'll  bet  any  man  five  pounds  that  if  we  try  to  go  through,  we 
shall  stick  fast.' 

'  By  the  powers,  we  shall  stick  fast !'  echoed  Jack,  the  Cap- 
tain's brother,  shaking  his  large  head  with  an  air  of  firm  con. 
viction. 


40  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

*  Drive  on  !  drive  on  !'  cried  R petulantly. 

'  Well,'  observed  the  Captain,  turning  to  us  as  we  sat  look- 
ing on,  much  edified  by  this  by-play  among  our  confede- 
rates, '  I  can  only  give  my  advice,  and  if  people  won't  be 
reasonable,  why  they  won't,  that's  all !' 

Meanwhile,  Wright  had  apparently  made  up  his  mind ;  for 
he  suddenly  began  to  shout  forth  a  volley  of  oaths  and  curses, 
that,  compared  with  the  French  imprecations  of  Delorier, 
sounded  like  the  roaring  of  heavy  cannon  after  the  popping 
and  sputtering  of  a  bunch  of  Chinese  crackers.  At  the  same 
time,  he  discharged  a  shower  of  blows  upon  his  mules,  who 
hastily  dived  into  the  mud,  and  drew  the  wagon  lumbering 
after  them.  For  a  moment  the  issue  was  dubious.  Wright 
writhed  about  in  his  saddle,  and  swore  and  lashed  like  a  mad- 
man ;  but  who  can  count  on  a  team  of  half-broken  mules  ? 
At  the  most  critical  point,  when  all  should  have  been  harmony 
and  combined  effort,  the  perverse  brutes  fell  into  lamentable 
disorder,  and  huddled  together  in  confusion  on  the  farther  bank. 
There  was  the  wagon  up  to  the  hub  in  mud,  and  visibly  settling 
every  instant.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  unload ;  then 
to  dig  away  the  mud  from  before  the  wheels  with  a  spade,  and 
lay  a  causeway  of  bushes  and  branches.  This  agreeable 
labor  accomplished,  the  wagon  at  length  emerged ;  but  if  I 
mention  that  some  interruption  of  this  sort  occurred  at  least 
four  or  five  times  a  day  for  a  fortnight,  the  reader  will  under- 
stand that  our  progress  towards  the  Platte  was  not  without  its 
obstacles. 

We  travelled  six  or  seven  miles  farther,  and  '  nooned '  near 
a  brook.  On  the  point  of  resuming  our  journey,  when  the 
horses  were  all  driven  down  to  water,  my  homesick  charger 


•jumping  off.*  41 

Pontiac  made  a  sudden  leap  across,  and  set  off  at  a  round  trot 
for  the  settlements.  I  mounted  my  rejnaining  horse,  and 
started  in  pursuit.  Making  a  circuit,  I  headed  the  runaway, 
hoping  to  drive  him  back  to  camp ;  but  he  instantly  broke  into 
a  gallop,  made  a  wide  tour  on  the  prairie,  and  got  past  me 
again.  I  tried  this  plan  repeatedly,  with  the  same  result : 
Pontiac  was  evidently  disgusted  with  the  prairie ;  so  I  aban- 
doned it,  and  tried  another,  trotting  along  gently  behind  him, 
in  hopes  that  I  might  quietly  get  near  enough  to  seize  the  trail- 
rope  which  was  fastened  to  his  neck,  and  dragged  about  a 
dozen  feet  behind  him.  The  chase  grew  interesting.  For 
mile  after  mile  1  followed  the  rascal,  with  the  utmost  care  not 
to  alarm  him,  and  gradually  got  nearer,  until  at  length  old 
Hendrick's  nose  was  fairly  brushed  by  the  whisking  tail  of  the 
unsuspecting  Pontiac.  Without  drawing  rein,  I  slid  softly  to 
the  ground ;  but  my  long  heavy  rifle  encumbered  me,  and  the 
low  sound  it  made  in  striking  the  horn  of  the  saddle  startled 
him  J  he  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  sprang  off  at  a  run.  'My 
friend,'  thought  I,  remounting,  '  do  that  again,  and  I  will  shoot 
you!' 

Fort  Leavenworth  was  about  forty  miles  distant,  and  thither 
I  determined  to  follow  him.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  spend  a 
solitary  and  supperless  night,  and  then  set  out  again  in  the 
morning.  One  hope,  however,  remained.  The  creek  where 
the  wagon  had  stuck  was  just  before  us ;  Pontiac  might  be 
thirsty  with  his  run,  and  stop  there  to  drink.  I  kept  as  near  to 
him  as  possible,  taking  every  precaution  not  to  alarm  him 
again ;  and  the  result  proved  as  I  had  hoped ;  for  he  walked 
deliberately  among  the  trees,  and  stooped  down  to  the  water. 
I  alighted,  dragged  old  Hendrick  through  the  mud,  and  with  a 


42  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

feeling  of  infinite  satisfaction  picked  up  the  slimy  trail-rope, 
and  twisted  it  three  times  round  my  hand.  '  Now  let  me  see 
you  get  away  again  !'  I  thought,  as  I  remounted.  But  Pon- 
tiac  was  exceedingly  reluctant  to  turn  back ;  Hendrick  too, 
who  had  evidently  flattered  himself  with  vain  hopes,  showed 
the  utmost  repugnfince,  and  grumbled  in  a  manner  peculiar  to 
himself  at  being  compelled  to  t'ace  about.  A  smart  cut  of  the 
whip  restored  his  cheerfulness ;  and  dragging  the  recovered 
truant  behind,  I  set  out  in  search  of  the  camp.  An  hour  or 
two  elapsed,  when,  near  sunset,  I  saw  the  tents,  standing  on  a 
rich  swell  of  the  prairie,  beyond  a  line  of  woods,  while  the 
bands  of  horses  were  feeding  in  a  low  meadow  close  at  hand. 
There  sat  Jack  C ,  cross-legged,  in  the  sun,  splicing  a  trail- 
rope,  and  the  rest  were  lying  on  the  grass,  smoking  and  telling 
stories.  That  night  we  enjoyed  a  serenade  trom  the  wolves, 
more  lively  than  any  with  which  they  had  yet  favored  us  ;  and 
in  the  morning  one  of  the  musicians  appeared,  not  many  rods 
from  the  tents,  quietly  seated  among  the  horses,  looking  at  us 
with  a  pair  of  large  gray  eyes ;  but  perceiving  a  rifle  levelled 
at  him,  he  leaped  up  and  made  off  in  hot  haste. 

I  pass  by  the  following  day  or  two  of  our  journey,  for 
nothing  occurred  worthy  of  record.  Should  any  one  of  my 
readers  ever  be  impelled  to  visit  the  prairies,  and  should  he 
choose  the  route  of  the  Platte,  (the  best,  perhaps,  that  can  be 
adopted,)  I  can  assure  him  that  he  need  not  think  to  enter  at 
once  upon  the  paradise  of  his  imagination.  A  dreary  pre- 
liminary, protracted  crossing  of  the  threshold,  awaits  him 
before  he  finds  himself  fairly  upon  the  verge  of  the  '  great 
American  desert ;'  those  barren  wastes,  the  haunts  of  the 
buffalo  and  the  Indian,  where  the  very  shadow  of  civilization 


JUMPING   OFF.'  43 

lies  a  hundred  leagues  behind  him.  The  intervening  country, 
the  wide  and  fertile  belt  that  extends  for  several  hundred  miles 
beyond  the  extreme  frontier,  will  probably  answer  tolerably 
well  to  his  preconceived  ideas  of  the  prairie  ;  for  this  it  is  from 
which  picturesque  tourists,  painters,  poets  and  noveUsts,  who 
have  seldom  penetrated  farther,  have  derived  their  concep- 
tions of  the  whole  region.  If  he  has  a  painter's  eye,  he  may 
find  his  period  of  probation  not  wholly  void  of  interest.  The 
scenery,  though  tame,  is  graceful  and  pleasing.  Here  are 
level  plains,  too  wide  for  the  eye  to  measure  ;  green  undula- 
tions, like  motionless  swells  of  the  ocean ;  abundance  of  streams, 
followed  through  all  their  windings  by  lines  of  woods  and 
scattered  groves.  But  let  him  be  as  enthusiastic  as  he  may, 
he  will  find  enough  to  damp  his  ardor.  His  wagons  will 
stick  in  the  mud  ;  his  horses  will  break  loose ;  harness  will 
give  way,  and  axle-trees  prove  unsound.  His  bed  will  be  a 
sot\  one,  consisting  often  of  black  mud,  of  the  richest  consistency. 
As  for  food,  he  must  content  himself  with  biscuit  and  salt  pro- 
visions ;  for  strange  as  it  may  seem,  this  tract  of  country  pro- 
duces very  little  game.  As  he  advances,  indeed,  he  will  see, 
mouldering  in  the  grass  by  his  path,  the  vast  antlers  of  the  elk, 
and  farther  on,  the  whitened  skulls  of  the  buffalo,  once  swarm- 
ing over  this  now  deserted  region.  Perhaps,  like  us,  he  may 
journey  for  a  fortnight,  and  see  not  so  much  as  the  hoof-prin 
of  a  deer  ;  in  the  spring,  not  even  a  prairie-hen  is  to  be  had. 

Yet,  to  compensate  him  for  this  unlooked-for  deficiency  of 
game  he  will  find  himself  beset  with  'varmints'  innumerable. 
The  wolves  will  entertain  him  with  a  concerto  at  night,  and 
skulk  around  him  by  day,  just  beyond  rifle-shot ;  his  horse  will 
step  into  badger-holes  ;  from  every  marsh  and  mudpuddle  will 


44  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND   OHEGON   TRAIL. 

arise  the  bellowing,  croaking  and  trilling  of  legions  of  frogs, 
infinitely  various  in  color,  shape  and  dimensions.  A  profusion 
of  snakes  will  glide  away  from  under  his  horse's  feet,  or  quietly 
visit  him  in  his  tent  at  night ;  while  the  pertinacious  humming 
of  unnumbered  mosquitoes  will  banish  sleep  from  his  eyelids. 
When  tliirsty  with  a  long  ride  in  the  scorching  sun  over  some 
boundless  reach  of  prairie,  he  comes  at  length  to  a  pool  of 
water,  and  alights  to  drink,  he  discovers  a  troop  of  young 
tadpoles  sporting  in  the  bottom  of  his  cup.  Add  to  this,  that 
all  the  morning  the  sun  beats  upon  him  with  a  sultry,  penetra- 
ting heat,  and  that,  with  provoking  regularity,  at  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  a  thunder-storm  rises  and  drenches 
him  to  the  skin.  Such  being  the  charms  of  this  favored  region, 
the  reader  will  easily  conceive  the  extent  of  our  gratification 
at  learning  that  for  a  week  we  had  been  journeying  on  the 
wrong  track  !  How  this  agreeable  discovery  was  made  I  will 
presently  explain. 

One  day,  after  a  protracted  morning's  ride,  we  stopped  to 
rest  at  noon  upon  the  open  prairie.  No  trees  were  in  sight ; 
but  close  at  hand,  a  little  dribbling  brook  was  twisting  from 
side  to  side  through  a  hollow  ;  now  forming  holes  of  stagnant 
water,  and  now  gliding  over  the  mud  in  a  scarcely  perceptible 
current,  among  a  growth  of  sickly  bushes,  and  great  clumps 
of  tall  rank  grass.  The  day  was  excessively  hot  and  oppres- 
sive. The  horses  and  mules  were  rolling  on  the  prairie  to 
refresh  themselves,  or  feeding  among  the  bushes  in  the  hollow. 
We  had  dined  ;  and  Delorier,  puffing  at  his  pipe,  knelt  on  the 
grass,  scrubbing  our  service  of  tin-plate.  Shaw  lay  in  the 
shade,  under  the  cart,  to  rest  for  awhile,  before  the  word  should 
be  given  to  'catch  up.'     Henry  Chatillon,  before  lying  down, 


'jumping  off.'  45 

was  looking  about  for  signs  of  snakes,  the  only  living  things 
that  he  feared,  and  uttering  various  ejaculations  of  disgust,  at 
finding  several  suspicious-looking  holes  close  to  the  cart.  I  sat 
leaning  against  the  wheel  in  a  scanty  strip  of  shade,  making  a 
pair  of  hobbles  to  replace  those  which  my  contumacious  steed 
Pontiac  had  broken  the  night  before.  The  camp  of  our  friends, 
a  rod  or  two  distant,  presented  the  same  scene  of  lazy  tran- 
quillity. 

'  Hallo  !'  cried  Henry,  looking  up  from  his  inspection  of 
the  snake-holes,  '  here  comes  the  old  Captain  !' 

The  Captain  approached,  and  stood  for  a  moment  contem- 
plating us  in  silence. 

'  I  say,  Parkham,'  he  began,  '  look  at  Shaw  there,  asleep 
under  tlie  cart,  with  the  tar  dripping  off  the  hub  of  the  wheel 
on  his  shoulder  !' 

At  this  Shaw  got  up,  with  his  eyes  half  opened,  and  feeling 
the  part  indicated,  he  found  his  hand  glued  fast  to  his  red  flan- 
nel shirt. 

'  He  '11  look  well,  when  he  gets  among  the  squaws,  won't 
he  !'  observed  the  Captain,  with  a  grin. 

He  then  crawled  under  the  cart,  and  began  to  tell  stories, 
of  which  liis  stock  was  inexhaustible.  Yet  every  moment  he 
would  glance  nervously  at  the  horses.  At  last  he  jumped 
up  in  great  excitement.  '  See  that  horse  !  There — that  fellow 
just  walking  over  the  hill !  By  Jove  !  he's  off.  It's  your  big 
horse,  Shaw ;  no  it  isn't,  it's  Jack's.  Jack  !  Jack  !  hallo. 
Jack  !'   Jack,  thus  invoked,  jumped  up  and  stared  vacantly  at  us. 

'  Go  and  catch  your  horse,  if  you  don't  want  to  lose  him !' 
roared  the  Captain. 

Jack  instantly  set  off  at  a  run,  through  the  e;vass,  his  broad 


46  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

pantaloons  flapping  about  his  feet.  The  Captain  gazed  anx 
iously  till  he  saw  that  the  horse  was  caught ;  then  he  sat  down; 
with  a  countenance  of  thoughtfulness  and  care. 

'  I  tell  you  what  it  is,'  he  said,  *  this  will  never  do  at  all. 
We  shall  lose  every  horse  in  the  band  some  day  or  other,  and 
then  a  pretty  plight  we  should  be  in  !  Now  I  am  convinced 
that  the  only  way  for  us  is  to  have  every  man  in  the  camp 
stand  horse-guard  in  rotation  whenever  we  stop.  Supposing 
a  hundred  Pawnees  should  jump  up  out  of  that  ravine,  all 
yelling  and  flapping  their  buffalo  robes,  in  the  way  they  do  ? 
Why  in  two  minutes,  not  a  hoof  would  be  in  sight.'  We 
reminded  the  Captain  that  a  hundred  Pawnees  would  probably 
demolish  the  horse-guard,  if  he  wei'e  to  resist  their  depredations. 

'  At  any  rate,'  pursued  the  Captain,  evading  the  point, 
'  our  whole  system  is  wrong ;  I'm  convinced  of  it ;  it  is 
totally  unmilitary.  Why  the  way  we  travel,  strung  out  over 
the  prairie  for  a  mile,  an  enemy  might  attack  the  foremoa; 
men,  and  cut  them  off"  before  the  rest  could  come  up.' 

*  We   are  not  in   an  enemy's   country  yet,'   said   Shaw 
*  when  we  are,  we'll  travel  together.' 

'  Then,'  said  the  Captain,  '  we  might  be  attacked  in  camp 
We've  no  sentinels  ;  we  camp  in  disorder  ;  no  precautions  at 
all  to  guard  against  surprise.  My  own  convictions  are,  that 
we  ought  to  camp  in  a  hollow-square,  with  the  fires  in  the 
centre  ;  and  have  sentinels,  and  a  regular  password  appointea 
for  every  night.  Beside,  there  should  be  videttes,  riding  in 
advance,  to  find  a  place  for  the  camp  and  give  warning  of  an 
enemy.  These  are  my  convictions.  I  don't  want  to  dictate 
to  any  man.  I  give  advice  to  the  best  of  my  judgment,  that's 
all ;  and  then  let  people  do  as  they  please.' 


'jumping  off.'  47 

We  intimated  that  perhaps  it  would  be  as  well  to  postpone 
such  burdensome  precautions  until  there  should  be  some 
actual  need  of  them  ;  but  he  shook  his  head  dubiously.  The 
Captain's  sense  of  military  propriety  had  been  severely  shocked 
by  what  he  considered  the  irregular  proceedings  of  the  party  ; 
and  this  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  expressed  himself  upon 
the  subject.  But  his  convictions  seldom  produced  any  practi- 
cal results.  In  the  present  case,  he  contented  himself,  as  usual, 
with  enlarging  on  the  importance  of  his  suggestions,  and  won- 
dering that  they  were  not  adopted.  But  his  plan  of  sending 
out  videttes  seemed  particularly  dear  to  him ;  and  as  no  one 
else  was  disposed  to  second  his  views  on  this  point,  he  took 
it  into  his  head  to  ride  forward  that  afternoon,  himself. 

'Come,  Parkman,'  said  he,  *  will  you  go  with  me  V 

We  set  out  together,  and  rode  a  mile  or  two  in  advance. 
The  Captain,  in  the  course  of  twenty  years'  service  in  the 
British  army,  had  seen  something  of  life  ;  one  extensive  side  of 
it,  at  least,  he  had  enjoyed  the  best  opportunities  for  studying  ; 
and  being  naturally  a  pleasant  fellow,  he  was  a  very  entertaining 
companion.  He  cracked  jokes  and  told  stories  for  an  hour  or 
two  ;  until  looking  back,  we  saw  the  prairie  behind  us^  stretch- 
ing away  to  the  horizon,  without  a  horseman  or  a  wagon  in 
sight. 

'  Now,'  said  the  Captain,  <  I  think  the  videttes  had  better 
stop  till  the  main  body  comes  up.' 

I  was  of  the  same  opinion.  There  was  a  thick  growth  of 
woods  just  before  us,  with  a  stream  running  through  them. 
Having  crossed  this,  we  found  on  the  other  side  a  fine  level 
meadow,  half  encircled  by  the  trees  ;  and  fastening  our  horses 
to  some  bushes,  we  sat  down  on  the  grass  j  while,  with  an  old 


49  THR    CALIFORNIA    AJ>ID    OREGON    TRAIL. 

Stump  of  a  tree  for  a  target,  I  began  to  display  the  superiority 
of  the  renowned  rifle  of  the  backwoods  over  the  foreign  inno- 
vation borne  by  the  Captain.  At  length  voices  could  be  heard 
in  the  distance,  behind  the  trees. 

'  There  they  come  !'  said  the  Captain  ;  '  let's  go  and  see  how 
they  get  through  the  creek.' 

We  mounted  and  rode  to  the  bank  of  the  stream,  where  the 
trail  crossed  it.  It  ran  in  a  deep  hollow,  full  of  trees :  as  we 
looked  down,  we  saw  a  confused  crowd  of  horsemen  riding 
through  the  water ;  and  among  the  dingy  habiliments  of  our 
party,  glittered  the  uniforms  of  four  dragoons. 

Shaw  came  whipping  his  horse  up  the  bank,  in  advance  of 
the  rest,  with  a  somewhat  indignant  countenance.  The  first 
word  he  spoke  was  a  blessing  fervently  invoked  on  the  head  of 

R ,  who  was  riding,  with   a  crest-fallen  air,  in   the   rear. 

Thanks  to  the  ingenious  devices  of  this  gentleman,  we  had 
missed  the  track  entirely,  and  wandered,  not  toward  the  Platte, 
but  to  the  village  of  the  Iowa  Indians.  This  we  learned  from 
the  dragoons,  who  had  lately  deserted  from  Fort  Leavenworth. 
They  told  us  that  our  best  plan  now  was  to  keep  to  the  north- 
ward until  we  should  strike  the  trail  formed  by  several  parties 
of  Oregon  emigrants,  who  had  that  season  set  out  from  St.  Jo- 
seph's in  Missouri. 

In  extremely  oad  temper,  we  encamped  on  this  ill-starred 
spot ;  while  the  deserters,  whose  case  admitted  of  no  delay, 
rode  rapidly  forward.  On  the  day  following,  striking  the  St 
Joseph's  trail,  we  turned  our  horses'  heads  toward  Fort  Laramie 
then  about  seven  hundred  miles  to  the  westwai-d. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     <B  IG     BLUE  .  * 

A  man  so  various,  that  he  seemed  to  bo 
Not  one,  but  all  mankind's  epitome, 
StiiTin  opinions,  always  in  the  wrong, 
Was  every  thing  by  starts,  and  nothing  long, 
But  in  the  space  of  one  revolving  moon, 
Was  gamester,  chemist,  fiddler,  and  buffoon." 

Drydgn. 

The  great  medley  of  Oregon  and  California  emigrants,  at 
their  camps  around  Independence,  had  heard  reports  that  sev- 
eral additional  parties  were  on  the  point  of  setting  out  from 
St.  Joseph's,  farther  to  the  northward.'  The  prevailing  impres- 
sion was,  that  these  were  Mormons,  twenty-three  hundred  in 
number  ;  and  a  great  alarm  was  excited  in  consequence.  The 
people  of  Illinois  and  Missouri,  who  composed  by  far  the 
greater  part  of  the  emigrants,  have  never  been  on  the  best 
terms  with  the  '  Latter  Day  Saints  ;'  and  it  is  notorious  through- 
out the  country  how  much  blood  has  been  spilt  in  their  feuds, 
even  far  within  the  limits  of  the  settlements.  No  one  could  pre- 
dict what  would  be  the  result,  when  large  armed  bodies  of  these 
i  fanatics  should  encounter  the  most  impetuous  and  reckless  of 

their  old  enemies  on  the  broad  prairie,  far  beyond  the  reach  of 


60  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

law  or  military  force.  The  women  and  children  at  Independ- 
ence raised  a  great  outcry  ;  the  men  themselves  were  seriously 
alarmed ;  and,  as  I  learned,  they  sent  to  Colonel  Kearney, 
requesting  an  escort  of  dragoons  as  far  as  the  Platte.  This 
was  refused  ;  and  as  the  sequel  proved,  there  was  no  occasion 
for  it.  The  St.  Joseph's  emigrants  were  as  good  Christians 
and  as  zealous  Mormon-haters  as  the  rest ;  and  the  very  few 
families  of  the  '  Saints  '  who  passed  out  this  season  by  the  route 
of  the  Platte,  remained  behind  until  the  great  tide  of  emigration 
had  gone  by  ;  standing  in  quite  as  much  awe  of  the  '  gentiles  ' 
as  the  latter  did  of  them. 

We  were  now,  as  I  before  mentioned,  upon  this  St.  Joseph's 
trail.  It  was  evident,  by  the  traces,  that  large  parties  were  a 
few  days  in  advance  of  us  ;  and  as  we  too  supposed  them  to  be 
Mormons,  we  had  some  apprehension  of  interruption. 

The  journey  was  somewhat  monotonous.  One  day  we 
rode  on  for  hours,  without  seeing  a  tree  or  a  bush  :  before,  be- 
hind, and  on  either  side,  stretched  the  vast  expanse,  rolling  in 
a  succession  of  graceful  swells,  covered  with  the  unbroken  car- 
pet of  fresh  green  grass.  Here  and  there  a  crow,  or  a  raven, 
or  a  turkey-buzzard,  relieved  the  uniformity. 

'  What  shall  we  do  to-night  for  wood  and  water  V  we  be- 
gan to  ask  of  each  other ;  for  the  sun  was  within  an  hour  of 
setting.  At  length  a  dark  green  speck  appeared,  far  off  on  the 
right ;  it  was  the  top  of  a  tree,  peering  over  a  swell  of  the 
prairie  ;  and  leaving  the  trail,  we  made  all  haste  toward  it.  It 
proved  to  be  the  vanguard  of  a  cluster  of  bushes  and  low  trees, 
that  surrounded  some  pools  of  water  in  an  extensive  hollow  ;  so 
we  encamped  on  the  rising  ground  near  it. 

Shaw  and  I  were  sitting  in  the  tent,  when  Delorier  thrust 


THE   *  BIG   BLUE.'  51 

his  brown  face  and  old  felt  hat  into  the  opening,  and  dilating 
his  eyes  to  their  utmost  extent,  announced  supper.  There 
were  the  tin  cups  and  the  iron  spoons,  arranged  in  military  or- 
der on  the  grass,  and  the  coffee-pot  predominant  in  the  midst. 
The  meal  was  soon  dispatched ;  but  Henry  Chatillon  still  sat 
cross-legged,  dallying  with  the  remnant  of  his  coffee,  the  bev- 
erage in  universal  use  upon  the  prairie,  and  an  especial  favor- 
ite with  him.  He  preferred  it  in  its  virgin  flavor,  unimpaired 
by  sugar  or  cream  ;  and  on  the  present  occasion  it  met  his 
entire  approval,  being  exceedingly  strong,  or  as  he  expressed 
it,  '  right  black.' 

It  was  a  rich  and  gorgeous  sunset — an  American  sunset  j 
and  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  sky  was  reflected  from  some  exten- 
sive  pools  of  water  among  the  shadowy  copses  in  the  meadow 
below. 

*  I  must  have  a  bath  to-night,'  said  Shaw.  '  How  is  it,  De- 
lorier  ?     Any  chance  for  a  swim  down  there  V 

'  Ah  !  I  cannot  tell ;  just  as  you  please,  Monsieur,'  replied 
Delorier,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  perplexed  by  his  ignorance 
of  English,  and  extremely  anxious  to  conform  in  all  respects  to 
the  opinions  and  wishes  of  his  bourgeois. 

'  Look  at  his  moccason,'  said  I.  It  had  evidently  been 
lately  immersed  in  a  profound  abyss  of  black  mud. 

*  Come,'  said  Shaw ;  *  at  any  rate  we  can  see  for  our- 
selves.' 

We  set  out  together ;  and  as  we  approached  the  bushes, 
which  were  at  some  distance,  we  found  the  ground  becoming 
rather  treacherous.  We  could  only  get  along  by  stepping 
upon  large  clumps  of  tall  rank  grass,  with  fathomless  gulfs  be- 
tween, like  innumerable  little  quaking  islands  in  an  ocean  of 


B2  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

mud,  where  a  false  step  would  have  involved  our  boots  in  a 
catastrophe  like  that  which  had  befallen  Delorier's  moccasons. 
The  thing  looked  desperate :  we  separated,  so  as  to  search  in 
different  directions,  Shaw  going  off  to  the  right,  while  I  kept 
straight  forward.  At  last  I  came  to  the  edge  of  the  bushes : 
they  were  young  water-willows,  covered  with  their  caterpillar- 
like  blossoms,  but  intervening  between  them  and  the  last  grass 
clump  was  a  black  and  deep  slough,  over  which,  by  a  vigorous 
exertion,  I  contrived  to  jump.  Then  I  shouldered  my  way 
through  the  willows,  trampling  them  down  by  main  force,  till 
I  came  to  a  wide  stream  of  water,  three  inches  deep,  languidly 
creeping  along  over  a  bottom  of  sleek  mud.  My  arrival  pro- 
duced a  great  commotion.  A  huge  green  bull-frog  uttered  an 
indignant  croak,  and  jumped  off  the  bank  with  a  loud  splash  : 
his  webbed  feet  twinkled  above  the  surface,  as  he  jerked  them 
energetically  upward,  and  I  could  see  him  ensconcing  himself 
in  the  unresisting  slime  at  the  bottom,  whence  several  large  air 
bubbles  struggled  lazily  to  the  top.  Some  little  spotted  frogs 
instantly  followed  the  patriarch's  example ;  and  then  three 
turtles,  not  larger  than  a  dollar,  tumbled  themselves  off  a  broad 
'  lily  pod,'  where  they  had  been  reposing.  At  the  same  time  a 
snake,  gayly  striped  with  black  and  yellow,  glided  out  from  the 
bank,  and  writhed  across  to  the  other  side ;  and  a  small  stag- 
nant pool  into  which  my  foot  had  inadvertently  pushed  a  stone 
was  instantly  alive  with  a  congregation  of  black  tadpoles. 

*  Any  chance  for  a  bath,  where  you  are  V  called  out  Shaw, 
from  a  distance. 

The  answer  was  not  encouraging.  I  retreated  through  the 
willows,  and  rejoining  my  companion,,  we  proceeded  to  push 
our  researches  in  company.     Not  far  on  the  right,  a  rising 


i 


THE    *  BIG   BLUE.'  53 

ground,  covered  with  trees  and  bushes,  seemed  to  sink  down 
abruptly  to  the  water,  and  give   hope  of  better  success ;    so 
toward  this  we   directed  our   steps.     When   we  reached  the 
place  we  found  it  no  easytnatter  to  get  along  between  the  hill 
and  the  water,  impeded  as  we  were  by  a  growth  of  stiff,  obsti- 
nate young  birch  trees,  laced  together  by  grape-vines.     In  the 
twilight,  we  now  and  then,  to  support  ourselves,  snatched  at  the 
touch-me-not  stem  of  some   ancient  sweet-brier.     Shaw,  who 
was  in  advance,  suddenly  uttered  a  somewhat  emphatic  mono- 
syllable ;  and  looking  up,  I  saw  him  with  one  hand  grasping  a 
sapling,  and  one  foot  immersed  in  the  water,  from  which  he 
had  forgotten  to  withdraw  it,  his  whole  attention  being  engaged 
in  contemplating  the   movements  of  a  water-snake,  about  five 
feet  long,  curiously  checkered  with  black  and  green,  who  was 
deliberately  swimming  across  the  pool.     There  being  no  stick 
or  stone  at  hand  to  pelt  him  with,  we  looked  at  him  for  a  time 
in  silent  disgust ;  and  then  pushed  forward.     Our  perseverance 
was  at  last  rewarded ;  for  several  rods  farther  on,  we  emerged 
upon  a  little  level  grassy  nook  among  the  brushwood,  and  by 
an  extraordinary  dispensation  of  fortune,  the  weeds  and  floating 
sticks,  which  elsewhere  covered  the  pool,  seemed  to  have  drawn 
apart,  and  left  a  few  yards  of  clear  water  just  in  front  of  this 
favored  spot.     We  sounded  it  with  a  stick ;  it  was  four  feet 
deep :    we  lifted  a  specimen  in  our  closed  hands ;  it  seemed 
reasonably  transparent,  so  we  decided  that  the  time  for  action 
was  arrived.     But  our  ablutions  were  suddenly  interrupted  by 
ten  thousand  punctures,  like  poisoned  needles,  and  the  hum- 
ming of  myriads  of  overgrown  musquitoes,  rising  in  all  direc- 
tions from  their  native  mud  and  slime  and  swarming  to  the 
feast.     We  were  fain  to  beat  a  retreat  with  all  possible  speed. 


64  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

We  made  toward  the  tenls,  much  refreshed  by  the  bath, 
which  the  heat  of  the  weather,  joined  to  our  prejudices,  had 
lendercd  very  desirable. 

'  What's  the  matter  with  the  Captain  ?  look  at  him  !'  said 
Shaw.  The  Captain  stood  alone  on  the  prairie,  swinging  his 
hat  violently  around  his  head,  and  lifting  first  one  foot  and  then 
the  other,  without  moving  from  the  spot.  First  he  looked  down 
to  the  ground  with  an  air  of  supreme  abhorrence ;  then  he 
gazed  upward  with  a  perplexed  and  indignant  countenance,  as  if 
trying  to  trace  the  flight  of  an  unseen  enemy.  We  called  to  know 
what  was  the  matter ;  but  he  replied  only  by  execrations  di- 
rected against  some  unknown  object.  We  approached,  when 
our  ears  were  saluted  by  a  droning  sound,  as  if  twenty  bee- 
hives had  been  overturned  at  once.  The  air  above  was  full  of 
large  black  insects,  in  a  state  of  great  commotion,  and  multi- 
tudes were  flying  about  just  above  the  tops  of  the  grass-blades. 

'  Don't  be  afraid,'  called  the  Captain,  observing  us  recoil. 
'  The  brutes  won't  sting.' 

At  this  I  knocked  one  down  with  my  hat,  and  discovered 
him  to  be  no  other  than  a  '  dor-bug;'  and  looking  closer,  we 
found  the  ground  thickly  perforated  with  their  holes. 

We  took  a  hasty  leave  of  this  flourishing  colony,  and  walk- 
ing up  the  rising  ground  to  the  tents,  found  Delorier's  fire  still 
glowing  brightly.  We  sat  down  around  it,  and  Shaw  began  to 
expatiate  on  the  admirable  facilities  for  bathing  that  we  had 
discovered,  and  recommended  the  Captain  by  alf  means  to  go 
down  there  before  breakfast  in  the  morning.  The  Captain  was 
in  the  act  of  remarking  that  he  couldn't  have  believed  it  possi- 
ble, when  he  suddenly  interrupted  himself,  and  clapped  his 
hand  to  his  cheek,  exclaiming  that  *  those  infernal  humbugs 


THE    *BIG   BLUE.'  5S 

were  at  him  again.'  In  fact,  we  began  to  hear  sounds  as  if 
bullets  were  humming  over  our  heads.  In  a  moment  some- 
thing rapped  me  sharply  on  the  forehead,  then  upon  the  neck, 
and  immediately  I  felt  an  indefinite  number  of  sharp  wiry  claws 
in  active  motion,  as  if  their  owner  were  bent  on  pushing  his 
explorations  farther.  I  seized  him,  and  dropped  him  into  the 
fire.  Our  party  speedily  broke  up,  and  we  adjourned  to  our 
respective  tents,  where  closing  the  opening  fast,  we  hoped  to  be 
exempt  from  invasion.  But  all  precaution  was  fruitless.  The 
dor-bugs  hummed  through  the  tent,  and  marched  over  our  faces 
until  daylight ;  when,  opening  our  blankets,  we  found  several 
dozen  clinging  there  with  the  utmost  tenacity.  The  first  object 
that  met  our  eyes  in  the  morning  was  Delorier,  who  seemed  to 
be  apostrophizing  his  frying-pan,  which  he  held  by  the  handle, 
at  arm's  length.  It  appeared  that  he  had  left  it  at  night  by 
the  fire  ;  and  the  bottom  was  now  covered  with  dor-bugs,  firmly 
imbedded.  Multitudes  beside,  curiously  parched  and  shrivelled, 
lay  scattered  among  the  ashes. 

The  horses  and  mules  were  turned  loose  to  feed.  We  had 
just  taken  our  seats  at  breakfast,  or  rather  reclined  in  the  classic 
mode,  when  an  exclamation  from  Henry  Chatillon,  and  a  shout 
of  alarm  from  the  Captain,  gave  warning  of  some  casualty, 
and  looking  up,  we  saw  the  whole  band  of  animals,  twenty- 
three  in  number,  filing  off  for  the  settlements,  the  incorrigible 
Pontiac  at  their  head,  jumping  along  with  hobbled  feet,  at  a 
gait  much  more  rapid  than  graceful.  Three  or  four  of  us  ran 
to  cut  them  off,  dashing  as  best  we  might  through  the  tall  grass, 
which  was  glittering  with  myriads  of  dew  drops.  After  a  race 
of  a  mile  or  more,  Shaw  caught  a  horse.  Tying  the  trail-rope 
by  way  of  bridle  round  the  animal's  jaw,  and  leaping  upon  his 


56  THK  :ai.if")Rnia  and  oreoon  trail. 

back,  he  got  in  advance  of  the  remaining  fugitives,  while  we, 
soon  bringing  tliem  togetlicr,  drove  thcni  in  a  crowd  up  to  the 
tents,  wiiere  each  man  caught  and  saddled  his  own.  Tlien 
were  heard  lanientatiuns  and  curses;  for  half  the  horses  had 
broke  their  hobbles,  and  many  were  seriously  galled  by  attempt- 
ing to  run  in  fetters. 

It  was  late  that  morning  before  we  were  on  the  march  ; 
and  early  in  the  afternoon  we  were  compelled  to  encamp,  for  a 
thunder-gust  came  up  and  suddenly  enveloped  us  in  whirling 
sheets  of  rain.  With  much  ado,  we  pitched  our  tents  amid  the 
tempest,  and  all  night  long  the  thunder  bellowed  and  growled 
over  our  heads.  In  the  morning,  light  peaceful  showers  suc- 
ceeded the  cataracts  of  rain,  that  had  been  drenching  us 
through  the  canvas  of  our  tents.  About  noon,  when  there 
were  some  treacherous  indications  of  fair  weather,  we  got  in 
motion  again. 

Not  a  breath  of  air  stirred,  over  the  free  and  open  prairie : 
the  clouds  were  like  light  piles  of  cotton  ;  and  where  the  blue 
sky  was  visible,  it  wore  a  hazy  and  languid  aspect.  The  sun 
beat  down  upon  us  with  a  sultry  penetrating  heat  almost  insup- 
portable, and  as  our  party  crept  slowly  along  over  the  intermi- 
nable level,  the  horses  hung  their  heads  as  they  waded  fetlock 
deep  through  the  mud,  and  the  men  slouched  into  the  easiest 
position  upon  the  saddle.  At  last,  toward  evening,  the  old 
familiar  black  heads  of  thunder-clouds  rose  fast  above  the  hor- 
izon, and  the  same  deep  muttering  of  distant  thunder  that  had 
become  the  ordinary  accompaniment  of  our  afternoon's  journey 
began  to  roll  hoarsely  over  the  prairie.  Only  a  few  minutes 
elapsed  before  the  whole  sky  was  densely  shrouded,  and  the 
prairie  and  some  clusters  of  woods  in  front  assumed  a  purple 


THE    'BIG    BLUE.'  57 

hue  beneath  the  inky  shadows.  Suddenly  from  the  densest 
fold  of  the  cloud  the  flash  leaped  out,  quivering  again  and  again 
down  to  the  edge  of  the  prairie  ;  and  at  the  same  instant  came 
the  sharp  burst  and  the  long  rolling  peal  of  the  thunder.  A 
cool  wind,  filled  with  the  smell  of  rain,  just  then  overtook  us, 
levelling  the  tall  grass  by  the  side  of  the  path. 

'  Come  on  ;  we  must  ride  for  it !'  shouted  Shaw,  rushing 
past  at  full  speed,  his  led  horse  snorting  at  his  side.  The 
whole  party  broke  into  full  gallop,  and  made  for  the  trees  in 
front.  Passing  these,  we  found  beyond  them  a  meadow  which 
they  half  inclosed.  We  rode  pell-mell  upon  the  ground,  leaped 
from  horseback,  tore  off  our  saddles ;  and  in  a  moment  each 
man  was  kneeling  at  his  horse's  feet.  The  hobbles  were 
adjusted,  and  the  animals  turned  loose  ;  then,  as  the  wagons 
came  wheeling  rapidly  to  the  spot,  we  seized  upon  the  tent- 
poles,  and  just  as  the  storm  broke,  we  were  prepared  to  receive 
it.  It  came  upon  us  almost  with  the  darkness  of  night :  the 
trees  which  were  close  at  hand,  were  completely  shrouded  by 
the  roaring  torrents  of  rain. 

We  were  sitting  in  the  tent,  when  Delorier,  with  his  broad 
felt  hat  hanging  about  his  ears,  and  his  shoulders  glistening 
with  rain,  thrust  in  his  head. 

'  Voulez  vous  du  souper,  tout  de  suite  ?  I  can  make  fire, 
sous  la  charette — I  b^Hfrve  so— I  try.' 

'  Never  mind  supper,  man;  come  in  out  of  the  rain.' 

Delorier  accordingly  crouched  in  the  entrance,  for  modesty 
would  not  permit  him  to  intrude  farther. 

Our  tent  was  none  of  the  best  defence  against  such  a  cataract. 
The  rain  could  not  enter  bodily,  but  it  beat  through  the  canvas 
in  a  fine  drizzle,  that  wetted  us  just  as  effectually.     We  sat 


58 


THE   CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


upon  our  saddles  with  faces  of  the  utmost  surliness,  while  the 
water  dropped  from  the  vizors  of  our  caps,  and  trickled  down 
our  cheeks.  My  india-rubber  cloak  conducted  twenty  little 
rapid  streamlets  to  the  ground  ;  and  Shaw's  blanket  coat  was 
saturated  like  a  sponge.  But  what  most  concerned  us,  was  the 
sight  of  several  puddles  of  water  rapidly  accumulating  ;  one,  in 
particular,  that  was  gathering  around  the  tent-pole,  threatened 
to  overspread  the  whole  area  within  the  tent,  holding  forth  but 
an  indifferent  promise  of  a  comfortable  night's  rest.  Toward 
sunset,  however,  the  storm  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  began.  A 
bright  streak  of  clear  red  sky  appeared  above  the  western  verge 
of  the  prairie,  the  horizontal  rays  of  the  sinking  sun  streamed 
through  it,  and  glittered  in  a  thousand  prismatic  colors  upon 
the  dripping  groves  and  the  prostrate  grass.  The  pools  in  the 
tent  dwindled  and  sunk  into  the  saturated  soil. 

But  all  our  hopes  were  delusive.  Scarcely  had  night  set 
in,  when  the  tumult  broke  forth  anew.  The  thunder  here  is 
not  like  the  tame  thunder  of  the  Atlantic  coast.  Bursting  with 
a  terrific  crash  directly  above  our  heads,  it  roared  over  the 
boundless  waste  of  prairie,  seeming  to  roll  around  the  whole 
circle  of  the  firmament  with  a  peculiar  and  awful  reverberation. 
The  lightning  flashed  all  night,  playing  with  its  livid  glare 
upon  the  neighboring  trees,  revealing  the  vast  expanse  of  the 
plain,  and  then  leaving  us  shut  in  as  if  by  a  palpable  wall  of 
darkness. 

It  did  not  disturb  us  much.  Now  and  then  a  peal  awakened 
us,  and  made  us  conscious  of  the  electric  battle  that  was  raging, 
and  of  the  floods  that  dashed  upon  the  stanch  canvas  over 
our  heads.  We  lay  upon  india-rubber  cloths,  placed  between 
our   blankets  and  the  soil.     For  a  while,  they  excluded  the 


I 


THE    '  BIG    BLUE.'  59 

Water  to  admiration  ;  but  when  at  length  it  accumulated  and 
began  to  run  over  the  edges,  they  served  equally  well  to  retain 
it,  so  that  toward  the  end  of  the  night  we  were  unconsciously 
reposing  in  small  pools  of  rain. 

On  finally  awaking  in  the  morning  the  prospect  was  not  a 
cheerful  one.  The  rain  no  longer  poured  in  torrents ;  but  it 
pattered  with  a  quiet  pertinacity  upon  the  strained  and  saturated 
canvas.  We  disengaged  ourselves  from  our  blankets,  every 
fibre  of  which  glistened  with  little  bead-like  drops  of  water,  and 
looked  out  in  the  vain  hope  of  discovering  some  token  of  fair 
weather.  The  clouds,  in  lead-colored  volumes,  rested  upon  the 
dismal  verge  of  the  prairie,  or  hung  sluggishly  overhead,  while 
the  earth  wore  an  aspect  no  more  attractive  than  the  heavens, 
exhibiting  nothing  but  pools  of  water,  grass  beaten  down,  and 
mud  well  trampled  b)''  our  mules  and  horses.  Our  companions' 
tent,  with  an  air  of  forlorn  and  passive  misery,  and  their  wagons 
in  like  manner,  drenched  and  wobegone,  stood  not  far  off. 
The  Captain  was  just  returning  from  his  morning's  inspection 
of  the  horses.  He  stalked  through  the  mist  and  rain,  with  his 
plaid  around  his  shoulders,  his  little  pipe,  dingy  as  an  antiqua- 
rian relic,  projecting  from  beneath  his  moustache,  and  his 
brother  Jack  at  his  heels. 

*  Good  morning,  Captain.' 

'  Good  morning  to  your  honors,'  said  the  Captain,  affecting 
the  Hibernian  accent ;  but  at  that  instant,  as  he  stooped  to  enter 
the  tent,  he  tripped  upon  the  cords  at  the  entrance,  and  pitched 
forward  against  the  guns  which  were  strapped  around  the  pole 
in  the  centre. 

*  You  are  nice  men,  you  are  !'  said  he,  after  an  ejaculation 


80  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

not  necessary  to  be  recorded,  '  to  set  a  man-trap  before  your 
door  every  morning  to  catch  your  visitors.* 

Then  he  sat  down  upon  Henry  Chatillon's  saddle.  We 
tossed  a  piece  of  Buffalo  robe  to  Jack,  who  was  looking  about 
in  some  embarrassment.  He  spread  it  on  the  ground,  and  took 
his  seat,  with  a  stolid  countenance,  at  his  brother's  side. 

'Exhilarating  weather,  Captain.' 

'  Oh,  delightful,  delightful !'  replied  the  Captain ;  '  I  knew 
it  would  be  so ;  so  much  for  starting  yesterday  at  noon !  I 
knew  how  it  would  turn  out ;  and  I  said  so  at  the  time.' 

'You  said  just  the  contrary  to  us.  We  were  in  no  hurry, 
and  only  moved  because  you  insisted  on  it.' 

'  Gentlemen,'  said  the  Captain,  taking  his  pipe  from  his; 
mouth  with  an  air  of  extreme  gravity,  '  it  was  no  plan  of  mine. 
There's  a  man  among  us  who  is  determined  to  have  every  thing 
his  own  way.  You  may  express  your  opinion  ;  but  don't  ex- 
pect him  to  listen.  You  may  be  as  reasonable  as  you  like  ;  oh, 
it  all  goes  for  nothing  !  That  man  is  resolved  to  rule  the  roast, 
and  he'll  set  his  face  against  any  plan  that  he  didn't  think  of 
himself.' 

The  Captain  puffed  for  awhile  at  his  pipe,  as  if  meditating 
upon  his  grievances ;  then  l>e  began  again. 

'  For  twenty  years  I  have  been  in  the  British  army ;  and 
in  all  that  time  I  never  had  half  so  much  dissension,  and  quar- 
relling, and  nonsense,  as  since  I  have  been  on  this  cursed  prai- 
rie.    He's  the  most  uncomfortable  man  I  ever  met.' 

'  Yos ;'  said  Jack,  '  and  don't  you  know.  Bill,  how  he  drank 
up  all  the  coffee  last  night,  and  put  the  rest  by  for  himself  till 
the  morning !' 

'He  pretends  to  know  every  thing,'  resumed  the  Captain; 


1 


THE    '  BIG    BLUE.*  61 

*  nobody  must  give  orders  but  lie !  It's,  oh  !  we  must  do  this  ; 
and,  oh  !  we  must  do  that ;  and  the  tent  must  be  pitched  here, 
and  the  horses  must  be  picketed  there  ;  for  nobody  knows  as 
well  as  he  does.' 

We  were  a  little  surprised  at  this  disclosure  of  domestic 
dissensions  among  our  allies,  for  though  we  knew  of  their 
existence,  we  were  not  aware  of  their  extent.  The  persecuted 
Captain  seeming  wholly  at  a  loss  as  to  the  course  of  conduct 
that  he  should  pursue,  we  recommended  him  to  adopt  prompt 
and  energetic  measures ;  but  all  his  military  experience  had 
failed  to  teach  him  the  indispensable  lesson,  to  be  '  hard '  when 
the  emergency  requires  it. 

'  For  twenty  years,'  he  repeated, '  I  have  been  in  the  British 
army,  and  in  that  time  I  have  been  intimately  acquainted  with 
some  two  hundred  officers,  young  and  ol'd,  and  I  never  yet 
quarrelled  with  any  man.  Oh,  "  any  thing  for  a  quiet  life!" 
that's  my  maxim.' 

We  intimated  that  the  prairie  was  hardly  the  place  to  enjoy 
a  quiet  life,  but  that,  in  the  present  circumstances,  the  best 
thing  he  could  do  toward  securing  his  wished-for  tranquillity, 
was  immediately  to  put  a  period  to  the  nuisance  that  disturbed 
it.  But  again  the  Captain's  easy  good-nature  recoiled  from  the 
task.  The  somewhat  vigorous  measures  necessary  to  gain  the 
desired  result  were  utterly  repugnant  to  him ;  he  preferred  to 
pocket  his  grievances,  still  retaining  the  privilege  of  grumbling 
about  them.  '  Oh,  any  thing  for  a  quiet  life  !'  he  said  again, 
circling  back  to  his  favorite  maxim. 

But  to  glance  at  the  previous  history  of  our  transatlantic 
confederates.  The  Captain  had  sold  his  conyjnission,  and  was 
living  in  bachelor  ease  and  dignity  in  his  paternal  halls,  near 


62 


THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 


Dublin.  He  hunted,  fished,  rode  steeple-chases,  ran  races,  and 
talked  of  his  former  exploits.  He  was  surrounded  with  the 
trophies  of  his  rod  and  gun ;  the  walls  were  plentifully  gar- 
nished, he  told  us,  with  moose-horns  and  deer-horns,  bear-skins 
and  fox-tails ;  for  the  Captain's  double-barrelled  rifle  had  seen 
service  in  Canada  and  Jamaica  ;  he  had  killed  salmon  in  Nova 
Scotia,  and  trout,  by  his  own  account,  in  all  the  streams  of  the 
three  kingdoms.     But  in  an  evil  hour  a  seductive  stranger  came 

from  London  ;  no  less  a  person  than  R ;  who,  among  other 

multitudinous  wanderings,  had  once  been  upon  the  western 
prairies,  and  naturally  enough,  was  anxious  to  visit  them  again. 
The  Captain's  imagination  was  inflamed  by  the  pictures  of  a 
hunter's  paradise  that  his  guest  held  forth ;  he  conceived  an 
ambition  to  add  to  his  other  trophies  the  horns  of  a  buffalo,  and 

the  claws  of  a  grizzly  bear ;  so  he  and  R struck  a  league 

to  travel  in  company.  Jack  followed  his  brother,  as  a  matter 
of  course.  Two  weeks  on  board  of  the  Atlantic  steamer 
brought  them  to  Boston  ;  in  two  weeks  more  of  hard  travelling 
they  reached  St.  Louis,  from  which  a  ride  of  six  days  carried 
them  to  the  frontier ;  and  here  we  found  them,  in  the  full  tide 
of  preparation  for  their  journey. 

We  had  been  throughout  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  Cap- 
tain, but  R ,  the  motive-power  of  our  companions'  branch 

of  the  expedition,  was  scarcely  known  to  us.  His  voice,  indeed, 
might  be  heard  incessantly  ;  but  at  camp  he  remained  chiefly 
within  the  tent,  and  on  the  road  he  either  rode  by  himself,  or 
else  remained  in  close  conversation  with  his  friend  Wright,  the 
muleteer.    As  the  Captain  left  the  tent  that  morning,  I  observed 

R standing  by  the  fire,  and  having  nothing  else  to  do,  I 

determined  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  what  manner  of  man  he 


THE    '  BIG    BLUE.'  63 

was.  He  had  a  book  under  his  arm,  but  just  at  present  he  was 
engrossed  in  actively  superintending  the  operations  of  Sorel, 
the  hunter,  who  was  cooking  some  corn-bread  over  the  coals 
for  breakfast.  R was  a  well-formed  and  rather  good-look- 
ing man,  some  thirty  years  old ;  considerably  younger  than  the 
Captain.  He  wore  a  beard  and  moustache  of  the  oakum  com- 
plexion,  and  his  attire  was  altogether  more  elegant  than  one 
ordinarily  sees  on  the  prairie.  He  wore  his  cap  on  one  side  of 
his  head ;  his  checked  shirt,  open  in  front,  was  in  very  neat 
order,  considering  the  circumstances,  and  his  blue  pantaloons, 
of  the  John  Bull  cut,  might  once  have  figured  in  Bond-street. 

'  Turn  over  that  cake,  man  !  turn  it  over  quick  !  Don't  you 
see  it  burning  V 

'It  ain't  half  done,'  growled  Sorel,  in  the  amiable  tone  of  a 
whipped  bull-dog. 

'  It  is.     Turn  it  over,  I  tell  you  !' 

Sorel,  a  strong,  sullen-looking  Canadian,  who,  from  having 
spent  his  life  among  the  wildest  and  most  remote  of  the  Indian 
tribes,  had  imbibed  much  of  their  dark  vindictive  spirit,  looked 
ferociously  up,  as  if  he  longed  to  leap  upon  his  bourgeois  and 
throttle  him ;  but  he  obeyed  the  order,  coming  from  so  experi- 
enced  an  artist. 

'  It  was  a  good  idea  of  yours,'  said  I,  seating  myself  on  the 
tongue  of  the  wagon,  '  to  bring  Indian  meal  with  you.' 

'  Yes,  yes,'  said  R ,  '  it's  good  bread  for  the  prairie — 

good  bread  for  the  prairie.     I  tell  you  that's  burning  again.' 

Here  he  stooped  down,  and  unsheathing  the  silver-mounted 
hunting-knife  in  his  belt,  began  to  perform  the  part  of  cook 
himself;  at  the  same  time  requesting  me  to  hold  for  a  moment 
the  book  under  his  arm,  which  interfered  with  the  exercise  of 


64  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

these  important  functions.  I  opened  it ;  it  was  '  Macaulay'a 
Lays  ;'  and  I  made  some  remark,  expressing  my  admiration  of 
the  work. 

*  Yes,  yes ;  a  pretty  good  tiling.  Macaulay  can  do  better 
than  that,  though.  I  know  him  very  well.  I  have  travelled 
with  him.  Where  was  it  we  met  first — at  Damascus  ?  No, 
no  ;  it  was  in  Italy.' 

'So,'  said  I,  'you  have  been  over  the  same  ground  with 
your  countryman,  the  author  of  '  Eothen  V  There  has  been 
some  discussion  in  America  as  to  who  he  is.  I  have  heard 
Milnes's  name  mentioned.' 

'  Milnes  ?  Oh,  no,  no,  no ;  not  at  all.  It  was  Kinglake  ; 
Kinglake's  the  man.  I  know  liim  very  well  ;  that  is,  I  have 
seen  him.' 

Here  Jack  C ,  who  stood  by,  interposed  a  remark  (a 

thing  not  common  with  him),  observing  that  he  thought  the 
weather  would  become  fair  before  twelve  o'clock. 

'  It's  going  to  rain  all  day,'  said  R ,  '  and  clear  up  in 

the  middle  of  the  night.' 

Just  then,  the  clouds  began  to  dissipate  in  a  very  unequivo- 
cal manner ;  but  Jack,  not  caring  to  defend  his  point  against  so 
authoritative  a  declaration,  walked  away  whistling,  and  we 
resumed  our  conversation. 

'  Borrow,  the  author  of  "  The  Bible  in  Spain,"  I  presume 
you  know  him,  too  V 

'  Oh,  certainly ;  I  know  all  those  men.  By  the  way,  they 
told  me  that  one  of  your  American  writers,  Judge  Story,  had 
died  lately.  I  edited  some  of  his  works  in  London ;  not  with- 
out faults,  though.' 

Here  followed  an  erudite  commentary  on  certain  points  of 


=J 


THE    'BIG   BLUE.'  65 

law,  in  which  he  particularly  animadverted  on  the  errors  into 
which  he  considered  that  the  Judge  had  been  betrayed.  At 
length,  having  touched  successively  on  an  infinite  variety  of 
topics,  I  found  that  I  had  the  happiness  of  discovering  a  man 
equally  competent  to  enlighten  me  upon  them  all,  equally  an 
authority  on  matters  of  science  or  literature,  philosophy  or 
fashion.  The  part  I  bore  in  the  conversation  was  by  no  means 
a  prominent  one ;  it  was  onl}'  necessary  to  set  him  going,  and 
when  he  had  run  long  enough  upon  one  topic,  to  divert  him  to 
another,  and  lead  him  on  to  pour  out  his  heaps  of  treasure  in 
succession. 

*  What  has  that  fellow  been  saying  to  you  V  said  Shaw,  as 
I  returned  to  the  tent.  '  I  have  heard  nothing  but  his  talking 
for  the  last  half  hour.' 

R had   none  of  the    peculiar  traits  of  the  ordinary 

'  British  snob ;'  his  absurdities  were  all  his  own,  belonging  to 
no  particular  nation  or  clime.  He  was  possessed  with  an  active 
devil,  that  had  driven  him  over  land  and  sea,  to  no  great  pur- 
pose, as  it  seemed ;  for  although  he  had  the  usual  complement 
of  eyes  and  ears,  the  avenues  between  these  organs  and  his 
brain  appeared  remarkably  narrow  and  untrodden.  His  energy 
was  much  more  conspicuous  than  his  wisdom  ;  but  his  predom- 
inant characteristic  was  a  magnanimous  ambition  to  exercise 
on  all  occasions  an  awful  rule  and  supremacy,  and  this  propen- 
sity equally  displayed  itself,  as  the  reader  will  have  observed, 
whether  the  matter  in  question  was  the  baking  of  a  hoe-cake  or 
a  point  of  international  law.  When  such  diverse  elements  as 
he  and  the  easy-tempered  Captain  came  in  contact,  no  wonder 

some  commotion  ensued  ;  R— rode  rough-shod,  from  morning 

till  night,  over  his  military  ally. 


66  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

At  noon  tlie  sky  was  clear,  and  we  set  out,  trailing  tlu'ough 
mud  and  slime  six  inches  deep.  That  night  we  were  spared 
the  customary  inlliction  of  the  shower-bath. 

On  the  next  afternoon  we  were  moving  slowly  along,  not 

fiir  from  a  patch  of  woods  which  lay  on  the  right.     Jack  C 

rode  a  little  in  advance  ; 

'  The  livelong  day  he  had  not  spoke  ;' 

when  suddenly  he  faced  about,  pointed  to  the  woods,  and  roared 
out  to  his  brother : 

'  Oh,  Bill !  here's  a  cow  !' 

The  Captain  instantly  galloped  forward,  and  he  and  Jack 
made  a  vain  attempt  to  capture  the  prize  ;  but  the  cow,  with  a 
well-grounded  distrust  of  their  intentions,  took  refuge  among 

the  trees.     R joined  them,  and  they  soon  drove  her  out. 

We  watched  their  evolutions  as  they  galloped  around  her,  trying 
in  vain  to  noose  her  with  their  trail-ropes,  which  they  had  con- 
verted into  larieitcs  for  the  occasion.  At  length  they  resorted 
to  milder  measures,  and  the  cow  was  driven  along  with  the 
party.  Soon  after,  the  usual  thunder-storm  came  up,  the  wind 
blowing  with  such  fury  that  the  streams  of  rain  flew  almost 
horizontally  along  the  prairie,  roaring  like  a  cataract.  The 
horses  turned  tail  to  the  storm,  and  stood  hanging  their  heads, 
bearing  the  infliction  with  an  air  of  meekness  and  resignation ; 
while  we  drew  our  heads  between  our  shoulders,  and  crouched 
forward,  so  as  to  make  our  backs  serve  as  a  pent-house  for  the 
rest  of  our  persons.  Meanwhile,  the  cow,  taking  advantage  of 
the  tumult,  ran  off,  to  the  great  discomfiture  of  the  Captain,  who 
seemed  to  consider  her  as  his  own  especial  prize,  since  she  had 
been  discovered  by  Jack.     In  defiance  of  the  storm,  he  pulled 


THE    *  BIG   BLUE.'  67 

his  cap  tight  over  his  brows,  jerked  a  huge  buffalo-pistol  from 
his  holster,  and  set  out  at  full  speed  after  her.  This  was  the 
last  we  saw  of  them  for  some  time,  the  mist  and  rain  making 
an  impenetrable  veil ;  but  at  length  we  heard  the  Captain's 
shout,  and  saw  him  looming  through  the  tempest,  the  picture 
of  a  Hibernian  cavalier,  with  his  cocked  pistol  held  aloft  for 
safety's  sake,  and  a  countenance  of  anxiety  and  excitement. 
The  cow  trotted  before  him,  but  exhibited  evident  signs  of  an 
intention  to  run  off  again,  and  the  Captain  was  roaring  to  us  to 
head  her.  But  the  rain  had  got  in  behind  our  coat  collars,  and 
was  travelling  over  our  necks  in  numerous  little  streamlets, 
and  being  afraid  to  move  our  heads,  for  fear  of  admitting  more, 
we  sat  stiff  and  immovable,  looking  at  the  Captain  askance, 
and  laughing  at  his  frantic  movements.  At  last,  the  cow  made 
a  sudden  plunge  and  ran  off;  the  Captain  grasped  his  pistol 
firmly,  spurred  his  horse,  and  galloped  after,  with  evident  de- 
signs of  mischief  In  a  moment  we  heard  the  faint  report, 
deadened  by  the  rain,  and  then  the  conqueror  and  his  victim 
reappeared,  the  latter  shot  through  the  body,  and  quite  helpless. 
Not  long  after,  the  storm  moderated,  and  we  advanced  again. 
The  cow  walked  painfully  along  under  the  charge  of  Jack,  to 
whom  the  Captain  had  committed  her,  while  he  himself  rode 
forward  in  his  old  capacity  of  vidette.  We  were  approaching 
a  long  line  of  trees,  that  followed  a  stream  stretching  across  our 
path,  far  in  front,  when  we  beheld  the  vidette  galloping  toward 
us,  apparently  much  excited,  but  with  a  broad  grin  on  his  face. 

*  Let  that  cow  drop  behind  !'  he  shouted  to  us  ;  '  here's  her 
owners  !' 

And  in  fact,  as  we  approached  the  line  of  trees,  a  large  white 
object,  like  a  tent,  was  visible  behind  them.     On  approaching, 


68  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

however,  we  found,  instead  of  the  expected  Mormon  camp, 
nothing  but  the  lonely  prairie,  and  a  large  white  rock  standing 
by  the  path.     The  cow,  therefore,  resumed  her  place  in  our 

procession.     She  walked  on  until  we  encamped,  when  R , 

firmly  approaching  with  his  enormous  English  double-barrelled 
rifle,  calmly  and  deliberately  took  aim  at  her  heart,  and  dis- 
charged into  it  first  one  bullet  and  then  the  other.  She  was 
then  butchered  on  the  most  approved  principles  of  woodcraft, 
and  furnished  a  very  welcome  item  to  our  somewhat  limited 
bill  of  fare. 

In  a  day  or  two  more  we  reached  the  river  called  the  '  Big 
Blue.'  By  titles  equally  elegant,  almost  all  the  streams  of  this 
region  are  designated.  We  had  struggled  through  ditches  and 
little  brooks  all  that  morning ;  but  on  traversing  the  dense 
woods  that  lined  the  banks  of  the  Blue,  we  found  that  more 
formidable  difficulties  awaited  us,  for  the  stream,  swollen  by 
the  rains,  was  wide,  deed  and  rapid. 

No  sooner  were  we  on  the  spot,  than  R had  flung  oflT 

his  clothes,  and  was  swimming  across,  or  splashing  through  the 
shallows,  with  the  end  of  a  rope  between  his  teeth.  We  all 
looked  on  in  admiration,  wondering  what  might  be  the  design 
of  this  energetic  preparation  ;  but  soon  we  heard  him  shouting  : 
*  Give  that  rope  a  turn  round  that  stump  !  You,  Sorel ;  do  you 
hear?  Look  sharp,  now  Boisverd !  Come  over  to  this  side, 
some  of  you,  and  help  me  !'  The  men  to  whom  these  orders 
were  directed  paid  not  the  least  attention  to  them,  though  they 
were  poured  out  without  pause  or  intermission.  Henry  Cha- 
tillon  directed  the  work,  and  it  proceeded  quietly  and  rapidly. 
R 's  sharp  brattling  voice  might  have  been  heard  inces- 
santly; and  he  was  leaping  about  with  the  utmost  activity, 


THE    '  BIG    BLUE.' 


69 


multiplying  himself,  after  the  manner  of  great  commanders,  as 
if  his  universal  presence  and  supervision  were  of  the  last  ne- 
cessity. His  commands  were  rather  amusingly  inconsistent ; 
for  when  he  saw  that  the  men  would  not  do  as  he  told  them,  he 
wisely  accommodated  himself  to  circumstances,  and  with  the 
utmost  vehemence  ordered  them  to  do  precisely  that  which  they 
were  at  tlie  time  engaged  upon,  no  doubt  recollecting  the  story 
of  Mahomet  and  the  refractory  mountain.  Shaw  smiled  signifi- 
cantly ;  R observed  it,  and  approaching  with  a  counte- 
nance of  lofty  indignation,  began  to  vapour  a  little,  but  was  in- 
stantly reduced  to  silence. 

The  raft  was  at  length  complete.  We  piled  our  goods  upon 
It,  with  the  exception  of  our  guns,  which  each  man  chose  to 
retain  in  his  own  keeping.  Sorel,  Boisverd,  Wright  and  De- 
lorier  took  their  stations  at  the  four  corners,  to  hold  it  together, 
and  swim  across  with  it ;  and  in  a  moment  more,  all  our  earthly 
possessions  were  floating  on  the  turbid  waters  of  the  Big  Blue. 
We  sat  on  the  bank,  anxiously  watching  the  result,  until  we 
saw  the  raft  safe  landed  in  a  little  cove  far  down  on  the  opposite 
bank.  The  empty  wagons  were  easily  passed  across ;  ana 
then,  each  man  mounting  a  horse,  we  rode  through  the  stream, 
the  stray  animals  following  of  their  own  accord. 


CHAPTER  Vr. 


THE  PLATTE  AND  THE  DESERT. 


"  Skkst  thon  yon  dreary  plain,  forlorn  and  wild, 

The  seat  of  desolation  V 

Paradise  Lost. 

"  Here  have  we  war  for  war,  and  blood  for  blood." 

Kino  John. 

We  were  now  arrived  at  the  close  of  our  solitary  journey- 
ings  along  the  St.  Joseph's  Trail.  On  the  evening  of  the 
twenty-third  of  May  we  encamped  near  its  junction  with  the 
old  legitimate  trail  of  the  Oregon  emigrants.  We  had  ridden 
long  that  afternoon,  trying  in  vain  to  find  wood  and  water,  until 
at  length  we  saw  the  sunset  sky  reflected  from  a  pool  encircled 
by  bushes  and  a  rock  or  two.  The  water  lay  in  the  bottom  of 
a  hollow,  the  smooth  prairie  gracefully  rising  in  ocean-like 
swells  on  every  side.  We  pitched  our  tents  by  it ;  not  however 
before  the  keen  eye  of  Henry  Chatillon  had  discerned  some 
unusual  object  upon  the  faintly  defined  outline  of  the  distant 
swell.  But  in  the  moist,  hazy  atmosphere  of  the  evening, 
nothing  could  be  clearly  distinguished.  As  we  lay  around  the 
fire  after  supper,  a  low  and  distant  sound,  strange  enough  amid 
the  loneliness  of  the  prairie,  reached  our  ears — peals  of  laughter, 


THE  PLATTE  AND  THE  DESERT.  71 

and  the  faint  voices  of  men  and  women.  For  eight  days  we 
had  not  encountered  a  human  being,  and  this  singular  warning 
of  their  vicinity  had  an  effect  extremely  wild  and  impressive. 

About  dark  a  sallow-faced  fellow  descended  the  hill  on 
horseback,  and  splashing  through  the  pool,  rode  up  to  the  tents. 
He  was  enveloped  in  a  huge  cloak,  and  his  broad  felt-hat  was 
weeping  about  his  ears  with  the  drizzling  moisture  of  the  eve- 
ning. Another  followed,  a  stout,  square-built,  intelligent-looking 
man,  who  announced  himself  as  leader  of  an  emigrant  party, 
encamped  a  mile  in  advance  of  us.  About  twenty  wagons,  he 
said,  were  with  him  ;  the  rest  of  his  party  were  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Big  Blue,  waiting  for  a  woman  who  was  in  the  pains 
of  child-birth,  and  quarrelling  meanwhile  among  themselves. 

These  were  the  first  emigrants  that  we  had  overtaken, 
although  we  had  found  abundant  and  melancholy  traces  of  their 
progress  throughout  the  whole  course  of  the  journey.  Some- 
times we  passed  the  grave  of  one  who  had  sickened  and  died  on 
the  way.  The  earth  was  usually  torn  up,  and  covered  thickly 
with  wolf-tracks.  Some  had  escaped  this  violation.  One 
morning,  a  piece  of  plank,  standing  upright  on  the  summit  of  a 
grassy  hill,  attracted  our  notice,  and  riding  up  to  it,  we  found 
the  following  words  very  roughly  traced  upon  it,  apparently  by 
a  red-hot  piece  of  iron  : 

DIED    MAT   7tlL,  1840. 

AGED    TWO   MONTHS. 

Such  tokens  were  of  common  occurrence.  Nothing  could 
speak  more  for  the  hardihood,  or  rather  infatuation,  of  the  ad- 
venturers, or  the  sufferings  that  await  them  upon  the  journey. 


72  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

We  were  late  in  breaking  up  our  camp  on  tlie  following 
morning,  and  scarcely  had  we  I'idden  a  mile  when  we  saw,  far 
in  advance  of  us,  drawn  against  the  horizon,  a  line  of  objects 
stretching  at  regular  intervals  along  the  level  edge  of  the 
prairie.  An  intervening  swell  soon  hid  them  from  sight,  until, 
ascending  it  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after,  we  saw  close  before  us 
the  emigrant  caravan,  with  its  heavy  white  wagons  creeping  on 
in  their  slow  procession,  and  a  large  drove  of  cattle  following 
behind.  Half  a  dozen  yellow-visaged  Missourians,  mounted  on 
horseback,  were  cursing  and  shouting  among  them  ;  their  lank 
angular  proportions,  enveloped  in  brown  homespun,  evidently 
cut  and  adjusted  by  the  hands  of  a  domestic  female  tailor.  As 
we  approached,  they  greeted  us  with  the  polished  salutation : 
*  How  are  ye,  boys  ?     Are  ye  for  Oregon  or  California  V 

As  we  pushed  rapidly  past  the  vv^agons,  children's  faces 
were  thrust  out  from  the  white  coverings  to  look  at  us  ;  while 
the  care-worn,  thin-featured  matron,  or  the  buxom  girl,  seated 
in  front,  suspended  the  knitting  on  which  most  of  them  were 
engaged  to  stare  at  us  with  wondering  curiosity.  By  the  side 
of  each  wagon  stalked  the  proprietor,  urging  on  his  patient  oxen, 
who  shouldered  heavily  along,  inch  by  inch,  on  their  intermi- 
nable journey.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  fear  and  dissension  pre- 
vailed among  them ;  some  of  the  men — but  these,  with  one 
exception,  were  bachelors — looked  wistfully  upon  us  as  we  rode 
lightly  and  swiftly  past,  and  then  impatiently  at  their  own 
lumbering  wagons  and  heavy-gaited  oxen.  Others  were  unwil- 
ling  to  advance  at  all,  until  the  party  they  had  left  behind  should 
have  rejoined  them.  Many  were  murmuring  against  the 
leader  they  had  chosen,  and  wished  to  depose  him;  and  this 
discontent  was  fomented  by  some  ambitious  spirits,  who  had 


THE    PLATTE    AND    THE    DESEKT. 


7Z 


hopes  of  succeeding  in  his  place.  The  women  were  divided 
between  regrets  for  the  homes  they  had  left  and  apprehension 
of  the  deserts  and  the  savages  before  them. 

We  soon  left  them  far  behind,  and  fondly  hoped  that  we  had 
taken  a  final  leave  ;  but  unluckily  our  companions'  wagon  stuc 
so  long  in  a  deep  muddy  ditch,  that  before  it  was  extricated  the 
van  of  the  emigrant  caravan  appeared  again,  descending  a 
ridge  close  at  hand.  Wagon  after  wagon  plunged  through  the 
mud  ;  and  as  it  was  nearly  noon,  and  the  place  promised  shade 
and  water,  we  saw  with  much  gratification  that  they  were 
resolved  to  encamp.  Soon  the  wagons  were  wheeled  into  a 
circle ;  the  cattle  were  grazing  over  the  meadow,  and  tlie  men, 
with  sour,  sullen  faces,  were  looking  about  for  wood  and  water. 
They  seemed  to  meet  with  but  indifferent  success.  As  we  left 
the  ground,  I  saw  a  tall  slouching  fellow,  with  the  nasal  accent 
of  '  down  east,'  contemplating  the  contents  of  his  tin  cup, 
which  he  had  just  filled  with  water. 

'Look  here,  you,"  said  he  ;  "  it's  chock  full  of  animals!' 

The  cup,  as  he  held  it  out,  exhibited  in  fact  an  extraordinary 
variety  and  profusion  of  animal  and  vegetable  life. 

Riding  up  the  little  hill,  and  looking  back  on  the  meadow, 
we  could  easily  see  that  all  was  not  right  in  theilAmp  of  the 
emigrants.     The  men  were  crowded  together,  and  an  angry 

discussion  seemed  to  be  going  forward.     R was  missing 

from  his  wonted  place  in  the  line,  and  the  Captain  told  us  that 
he  had  remained  behind  to  get  his  horse  shod  by  a  blacksmith 
who  was  attached  to  the  emigrant  party.  Something  whispered 
in  our  ears  that  mischief  was  on  foot ;  we  kept  on,  however, 
and  coming  soon  to  a  stream  of  tolerable  water,  we  stopped  lo 
rest  and  dine.     Still  the  absentee  lingered  behind.     At  last,  a 

4 


74  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

the  distance  of  a  inilo,  he  and  his  horse  suddenly  appeared, 
sharply  defined  against  the  sky  on  the  summit  of  a  hill ;  and 
close  behind,  a  huge  white  object  rose  slowly  into  view. 
'  What  is  that  blockhead  bringing  with  him  now  V 
A  moment  dispelled  the  mystery.  Slowly  and  solemnly,  one 
behind  the  other,  four  long  trains  of  oxen  and  four  emigrant 
wagons   rolled  over   the    crest   of  the  declivity    and  gravely 

descended,  while  R rode  in  state  in  the   van.     It  seems, 

that  during  the  process  of  shoeing  the  horse,  the  smothered  dis- 
sensions among  the  emigrants  suddenly  broke  into  open  rupture. 
Some  insisted  on  pushing  forward,  some  on  remaining  where  they 
were,  and  some  on  going  back.  Kearsley,  their  captain,  threw 
up  his  command  in  disgust.  '  And  now,  boys,'  said  he,  '  if  any 
of  you  are  for  going  ahead,  just  you  come  along  with  me.' 

Four  wagons,  with  ten  men,  one  woman  and  one  small  child, 

made  up  the  force  of  the  '  go-ahead '  faction,  and  R ,  with 

his  usual  proclivity  toward  mischief,  invited  them  to  join  our 
party.  Fear  of  the  Indians  —  for  I  can  conceive  of  no  other 
motive  —  must  have  induced  him  to  court  so  burdensome  an 
alliance.  As  may  well  be  conceived,  these  repeated  instances 
of  high-handed  dealing  sufficiently  exaspirated  us.  In  this 
case,  indeecwthe  men  who  joined  us  were  all  that  could  be 
desired ;  rude  indeed  in  manners,  but  frank,  manly  and  intelli- 
gent. To  tell  them  we  could  not  travel  with  them  was  of  course 
out  of  the  question.  I  merely  reminded  Kearsley  that  if  his 
oxen  could  not  keep  up  with  our  mules  he  must  expect  to  be 
left  behind,  as  we  could  not  consent  to  be  farther  delayed  on 
the  journey  ;  but  he  immediately  replied,  that  his  oxen  '  should 
Keep  up ;  and  if  they  couldn't,  why  he  allowed  he'd  find  out 
Jiow   to  make  'em ! '      Having  also  availed  myself  of  what 


THE  PLATTE  AND  THE  DESERT.  75 

satisfaction  could  be  derived  from  giving  R to  understand  my 

opinion  of  liis  conduct,  I  returned  to  our  own  side  of  the  camp. 

On  the  next  day,  as  it  chanced,  our  English  companions 
broke  the  axle-tree  of  their  wagon,  and  down  came  the  whole 
cumbrous  machine  lumbering  into  the  bed  of  a  brook !  Here 
was  a  day's  work  cut  out  for  us.  Meanwhile,  our  emigrant 
associates  kept  on  their  way,  and  so  vigorously  did  they  urge 
forward  their  powerful  oxen,  that,  with  the  broken  axle-tree  and 
other  calamities,  it  was  full  a  week  befora  we  overtook  them  ; 
when  at  length  we  discovered  them,  one  afternoon,  crawling 
quietly  along  the  sandy  brink  of  the  Platte.  But  meanwhile 
various  incidents  occurred  to  ourselves. 

It  was  probable  that  at  this  stage  of  our  journey  the  Pawnees 
would  attempt  to  rob  us.  VVe  began  therefore  to  stand  guard 
in  turn,  dividing  the  night  into  three  watches,  and  appointing 
two  men  for  each.  Delorier  and  I  held  guard  together.  We 
did  not  march  with  military  precision  to  and  fro  before  the 
tents  :  our  discipline  was  by  no  means  so  stringent  and  rigid. 
We  wrapped  ourselves  in  our  blankets,  and  sat  down  by  the 
fire  ;  and  Delorier,  combining  his  culinary  functions  with  his 
duties  as  sentinel,  employed  himself  in  boiling  the  head  of  an 
antelope  for  our  morning's  repast.  Yet  we  were  models  of 
vigilance  in  comparison  with  some  of  the  party ;  for  the  ordinary 
practice  of  the  guard  was  to  establish  himself  in  the  most  com- 
fortable posture  he  could  ;  lay  his  rifle  on  the  ground,  and 
enveloping  his  nose  in  his  blanket,  meditate  on  his  mistress,  or 
whatever  subject  best  pleased  him.  This  is  all  well  enough 
when  among  Indians,  who  do  not  habitually  proceed  further  in 
their  hostility  than  robbing  travellers  of  their  horses  and  mules, 
though,  indeed,  a  Pawnee's  forbearance  is  not  always  to  be 


76  THE   CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

trusted ;  but  in  certain  regions  fartlier  to  the  west,  the  guard 
must  beware  how  he  exposes  his  person  to  the  light  of  the  fire, 
lest  perchance  some  keen-eyed  skulking  marksman  should  let 
fly  a  bullet  or  an  arrow  from  amid  the  darkness. 

Among  various  tales  that  circulated  around  our  camp-fire 
was  a  rather  curious  one,  told  by  Boisverd,  and  not  inappropriate 
here.  Boisverd  was  trapping  with  several  companions  on  the 
skirts  of  the  Blackfoot  country.  The  man  on  guard,  well 
knowing  that  it  behooved  him  to  put  forth  his  utmost  precaution, 
kept  aloof  from  the  fire-light,  and  sat  watching  intently  on  all 
sides.  At  length  he  was  aware  of  a  dark,  crouching  figure, 
stealing  noiselessly  into  the  circle  of  the  light.  He  hastily 
cocked  his  rifle,  but  the  sharp  click  of  the  lock  caught  the  ear  of 
Blackfoot,  whose  senses  were  all  on  the  alert.  Raising  his 
arrow,  already  fitted  to  the  string,  he  shot  it  in  the  direction  of 
the  sound.  So  sure  was  his  aim,  that  he  drove  it  through  the 
throat  of  the  unfortunate  guard,  and  then,  with  a  loud  yell, 
bounded  from  the  camp. 

As  I  looked  at  the  partner  of  my  watch,  puffing  and  blowing 
over  his  fire,  it  occurred  to  me  that  he  might  not  prove  the  most 
efficient  auxiliary  in  time  of  trouble. 

'  Delorier,'  said  I,  '  would  you  run  away  if  the  Pawnees 
should  fire  at  us  ?' 

'  Ah  !  oui,  oui.  Monsieur  !'  he  rep.ied  very  decisively. 

I  did  not  doubt  the  fact,  but  was  a  little  surprised  at  the 
frankness  of  the  confession. 

At  this  instant  a  most  whimsical  variety  of  voices — barks, 
howls,  yelps  and  whines — all  mingled  as  it  were  together, 
sounded  from  the  prairie,  not  far  otf,  as  if  a  whole  conclave  of 
wolves  of  every  age  and  sex  were  assembled  there.     Delorier 


THE    PLATTE    AND    THE    DESERT. 


7-? 


looked  up  from  his  work  with  a  laugh,  and  began  to  imitate  this 
curious  medley  of  sounds  with  a  most  ludicrous  accuracy.  At 
this  they  were  repeated  with  redoubled  emphasis,  the  musician 
being  apparently  Indignant  at  the  successful  efforts  of  a  rival. 
They  all  proceeded  from  the  throat  of  one  little  wolf,  not  larger 
than  a  spaniel,  seated  by  himself  at  some  distance.  He  was 
of  the  species  called  the  prairie-wolf;  a  grim-visaged,  but 
harmless  little  brute,  whose  worst  propensity  is  creeping  among 
horses  and  gnawing  the  ropes  of  raw-hide  by  which  they  are 
picketed  around  the  camp.  But  other  beasts  roam  the  prairies, 
far  more  formidable  in  aspect  and  in  character.  These  are  the 
large  wliite  and  gray  wolves,  whose  deep  howl  we  heard  at 
intervals  from  far  and  near. 

At  last  I  fell  into  a  doze,  and  awaking  from  it,  found  Delo- 
rier  fast  asleep.  Scandalized  by  this  breach  of  discipline,  I 
was  about  to  stimulate  his  vigilance  by  stirring  him  with  the 
stock  of  ray  rifle ;  but  compassion  prevailing,  I  determined  to 
let  him  sleep  awhile,  and  then  arouse  him,  and  administer  a 
suitable  reproof  for  such  a  forgetfulness  of  duty.  Now  and 
then  I  walked  the  rounds  among  the  silent  horses,  to  see  that  all 
was  right.  The  night  was  chill,  damp,  and  dark,  the  dank 
grass  bending  under  the  icy  dew-drops.  At  the  distance  of  a 
rod  or  two  the  tents  were  invisible,  and  nothing  could  be  seen 
but  the  obscure  figures  of  the  horses,  deeply  breathing,  and 
restlessly  starting  as  they  slept,  or  stiil  slowly  champing  the 
grass.  Far  off,  beyond  the  black  outline  of  the  prairie,  there 
was  a  ruddy  light,  gradually  increasing,  like  the  glow  of  a  con- 
flagration ;  until  at  length  the  broad  disk  of  the  moon,  blood-red, 
and  vastly  magnified  by  the  vapors,  rose  slowly  upon  the  dark- 
ness, flecked  by  one  or  two  little  clouds,  and  as  the  light  poured 


78  THE    CAL:F0RNIA    and    OREGON    TRAIL. 

over  the  gloomy  plain,  a  fierce  and  stern  howl,  close  at  hand, 
seemed  to  greet  it  as  an  unwelcome  intruder.  There  was 
something  impressive  and  awful  in  tl)e  place  and  the  hour ;  for 
I  and  the  beasts  were  all  that  had  consciousness  for  many  a 
league  around. 

Some  days  elapsed,  and  brought  us  near  the  Platte.  Two 
men  on  horseback  approached  us  one  morning,  and  we  watched 
them  with  the  curiosity  and  interest  that,  upon  the  solitude  of 
the  plains,  such  an  encounter  always  excites.  They  were  evi- 
dently  whites,  from  their  mode  of  riding,  though,  contrary  to 
the  usage  of  that  region,  neither  of  them  carried  a  rifle. 

'  Fools  !'  remarked  Henry  Chatillon,  '  to  ride  that  way  on 
the  prairie  ;  Pawnee  find  them — then  they  catch  it !' 

Pawnee  had  found  them,  and  they  had  come  very  near 
'catching  it;'  indeed,  nothing  saved  them  from  trouble  but  the 
approach  of  our  party.  Shaw  and  I  knew  one  of  them  ;  a  man 
named  Turner,  whom  we  had  seen  at  Westport.  He  and  his 
companion  belonged  to  an  emigrant  party  encamped  a  few  miles 
in  advance,  and  had  returned  to  look  for  some  stray  oxen,  leav- 
ing their  rifles,  w-ith  characteristic  rashness  or  ignorance,  behind 
them.  Their  neglect  had  nearly  cost  them  dear;  for  just  be- 
fore we  came  up,  half  a  dozen  Indians  approached,  and  seeing 
them  apparently  defenceless,  one  of  the  rascals  seized  the  bridle 
of  Turner's  fine  horse,  and  ordered  him  to  dismount.  Turner 
was  wholly  unarmed ;  but  the  other  jerked  a  little  revolving 
pistol  out  of  his  pocket,  Qt  which  the  Pawnee  recoiled ;  and 
just  then  some  of  our  men  appearing  in  the  distance,  the  whole 
party  whipped  their  rugged  little  horses,  and  made  off".  In  no 
way  daunted.  Turner  foolishly  persisting  in  going  forward. 

Long  after  leaving  him,  and  late  that  afternoon,  in  the  rnids* 


THE    PLATTE    AND    THE    DESERT.  79 

of  a  gloomy  and  barren  prairie,  we  came  .suddenly  upon  the 
great  Pawnee  trail,  leading  from  their  villages  on  the  Platte,  to 
their  war  and  hunting  grounds  to  the  southward.  Here  every 
summer  pass  the  motley  concourse  ;  thousands  of  savages,  men, 
women,  and  children,  horses  and  mules,  laden  with  their  wea- 
pons and  implements,  and  an  innumerable  multitude  of  unruly 
wolfish  dogs,  who  have  not  acquired  the  civilized  accomplish- 
ment of  barking,  but  howl  like  their  wild  cousins  of  the  prairie. 

The  permanent  winter  villages  of  the  Pawnees,  stand  on  the 
lower  Platte,  but  throughout  the  summer  the  greater  part  of 
the  inhabitants  are  wandering  over  the  plains,  a  treacherous, 
cowardly  banditti,  who  by  a  thousand  acts  of  pillage  and  mur- 
der, have  deserved  summary  chastisement  at  the  hands  of  gov- 
ernment. Last  year  a  Dahcotah  warrior  performed  a  signal 
exploit  at  one  of  these  villages.  He  approached  it  alone,  in  the 
middle  of  a  dark  night,  and  clambering  up  the  outside  of  one 
of  the  lodges,  which  are  in  the  form  of  a  half-sphere,  he  looked 
in  at  the  round  hole  made  at  the  top  for  the  escape  of  smoke. 
The  dusky  light  from  the  smouldering  embers  showed  him  the 
forms  of  the  sleeping  inmates ;  and  dropping  lightly  through 
the  opening,  he  unsheathed  his  knife,  and  stirring  the  fire,  coolly 
selected  his  victims.  One  by  one,  he  stabbed  and  scalped  them  ; 
when  a  child  suddenly  awoke  and  screamed.  He  rushed  from 
the  lodge,  yelled  a  Sioux  war-cry,  shouted  his  name  in  triumph 
and  defiance,  and  in  a  moment  had  darted  out  upon  the  dark 
prairie,  leaving  the  whole  village  behind  him  in  a  tumult,  with 
the  howling  and  baying  of  dogs,  the  screams  of  women,  and 
the  yells  of  the  enraged  warriors. 

Our  friend  Kearsley,  as  we  learned  on  rejoining  him,  signal- 
ized himself  by  a  less  bloody  achievement.     He  and  his  men 


80  THE    CALIFORNIA   AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

were  good  woodsmen,  and  well  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  rifle ; 
but  found  themselves  wholly  out  of  their  element  on  the  prairie. 
None  of  them  had  ever  seen  a  buffalo ;  and  they  had  very 
^ague  conceptions  of  his  nature  and  appearance.  On  the  day 
after  they  reached  the  Platte,  looking  towards  a  distant  swell, 
they  beheld  a  multitude  of  little  black  specks  in  motion  upon 
its  surface. 

*  Take  your  rifles,  boys,'  said  Kearsley,  '  and  we'll  have 
fresh  meat  for  supper.'  This  inducement  was  quite  sufficient. 
The  ten  men  left  their  wagons,  and  set  out  in  hot  haste,  some 
on  horseback  and  some  on  foot,  in  pursuit  of  the  supposed 
buffalo.  Meanwhile  a  high  grassy  ridge  shut  the  game  from 
view  ;  but  mounting  it  after  half  an  hour's  running  and  riding, 
they  found  themselves  suddenly  confronted  by  about  thirty 
mounted  Pawnees !  The  amazement  and  consternation  were 
mutual.  Having  nothing  but  their  bows  and  arrows,  the  In- 
dians thought  their  hour  was  come,  and  the  fate  that  they  were 
no  doubt  conscious  of  richly  deserving,  about  to  overtake  them. 
So  they  began,  one  and  all,  to  shout  forth  the  most  cordial  salu- 
tations of  friendship,  running  up  with  extreme  earnestness  to 
shake  hands  with  the  Missourians,  who  were  as  much  rejoiced 
as  they  were  to  escape  the  expected  conflict. 

A  low  undulating  line  of  sand-hills  bounded  the  horizon 
before  us.  That  day  we  rode  ten  consecutive  hours,  and  it  was 
dusk  before  we  entered  the  hollows  and  gorges  of  these  gloomy 
little  hills.  At  length  we  gained  the  summit,  and  the  long- 
expected  valley  of  the  Platte  lay  before  us.  We  all  drew 
rein,  and,  gathering  in  a  knot  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  sat  joy- 
fully looking  down  upon  the  prospect.  It  was  right  welcome ; 
strange  too,  and  striking  to  the  imagination,  and  yet  it  had  not 


THE  PLATTE  AND  THE  DESERT.  81 

one  picturesque  or  beautiful  feature ;  nor  had  it  any  of  the 
features  of  grandeur,  other  than  its  vast  extent,  its  solitude  and 
its  wildness.  For  league  after  league,  a  plain  as  level  as  a 
frozen  lake,  was  outspread  beneath  us ;  here  and  there  the 
Platte,  divided  into  a  dozen  thread-like  sluices,  was  traversing 
it,  and  an  occasional  clump  of  wood,  rising  in  the  midst  like  a 
shadowy  island,  relieved  the  monoteny  of  the  waste.  No  living 
thing  was  moving  throughout  the  vast  landscape,  except  the 
lizzards  that  darted  over  the  sand  and  through  the  rank  grass 
and  prickly  pear,  just  at  our  feet.  And  yet  stern  and  wild 
associations  gave  a  singular  interest  to  the  view ;  for  here  each 
man  lives  by  the  strength  of  his  arm  and  the  valor  of  his  heart. 
Here  society  is  reduced  to  its  original  elements,  the  whole 
fabric  of  art  and  conventionality  is  struck  rudely  to  pieces,  and 
men  find  themselves  suddenly  brought  back  to  the  wants  and 
resources  of  their  original  natures. 

We  had  passed  the  more  toilsome  and  monotonous  part  of 
the  journey ;  but  four  hundred  miles  still  intervened  between 
us  and  Fort  Laramie  ;  and  to  reach  that  point  cost  us  the 
travel  of  three  additional  weeks.  During  the  whole  of  this  time, 
we  were  passing  up  the  centre  of  a  long  narrow  sandy  plain, 
reaching  like  an  outstretched  belt,  nearly  to  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains.  Two  lines  of  sand-hills,  broken  often  into  the  wildest  and 
most  fantastic  forms,  flanked  the  valley  at  the  distance  of  a 
mile  or  two  on  the  right  and  left ;  while  beyond  them  lay 
a  barren,  trackless  waste  — '  The  Great  American  Desert '  — 
extending  for  hundreds  of  miles  to  the  Arkansas  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  Missouri  on  the  other.  Before  us  and  behind  us,  the 
level  monotony  of  the  plain  was  unbroken  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.     Sometimes  it  glared  in  the  sun,  an  expanse  of 


82  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

hot,  bare  sand  ;  sometimes  it  was  veiled  by  long  coarse  grass. 
Huge  skills  and  whitening  bones  of  butralo  were  scattered 
every  where  ;  the  ground  was  tracked  by  myriads  of  them,  and 
often  covered  witli  the  circular  indentations  where  the  bulls  had 
wallowed  in  tlie  hot  weather.  From  every  gorge  and  ravine, 
opening  from  the  hills,  descended  deep,  well-worn  paths,  where 
the  butfalo  issue  twice  a  day  in  regular  procession  down  to 
drink  in  the  Platte.  The  river  itself  runs  through  the  midst, 
a  thin  sheet  of  rapid,  turbid  water,  half  a  mile  wide,  and  scarce 
two  feet  deep.  Its  low  banks,  for  the  most  part,  without  a  bush 
or  a  tree,  are  of  loose  sand,  with  which  the  stream  is  so  charged 
that  it  grates  on  the  teeth  in  drinking.  The  naked  landscape  is  of 
itself,  dreary  and  monotonous  enough ;  and  yet  the  wild  beasts 
and  wild  men  that  frequent  the  valley  of  the  Platte,  make  it  a 
scene  of  interest  and  excitement  to  the  traveller.  Of  those  who 
have  journeyed  there,  scarce  one,  perhaps,  fails  to  look  back 
with  fond  regret  to  his  horse  and  his  rifle. 

Early  in  the  morning  after  we  reached  the  Platte,  a  long 
procession  of  squalid  savages  approached  our  camp.  Each 
was  on  foot,  leading  his  horse  by  a  rope  of  bull-hides.  His 
attire  consisted  merely  of  a  scanty  cincture,  and  an  old 
buffalo  robe,  tattered  and  begrimed  by  use,  which  hung  over  his 
shoulders.  His  head  was  close  shaven,  except  a  ridge  of  hair 
reaching  over  the  crown  from  the  centre  of  the  forehead, 
very  much  like  the  long  bristles  on  the  back  of  a  hyena,  and 
he  carried  his  bow  and  arrows  in  his  hand,  while  his  meagre 
little  horse  was  laden  with  dried  buffalo  meat,  the  produce  of 
his  hunting.  Such  were  the  first  specimens  that  we  met —  and 
very  indifferen':  ones  they  were  —  of  the  genuine  savages  of  the 
prairie. 


THE  PLATTE  AND  THE  DESERT.  83 

They  were  the  Pawnees  whom  Kearsley  had  encountered 
the  day  before,  and  belonged  to  a  large  hunting  party,  known  to 
be  ranging  the  prairie  in  the  vicinity.  They  strode  rapidly 
past,  within  a  furlong  of  our  tents,  not  pausing  or  looking 
towards  us,  after  the  manner  of  Indians  when  meditating 
mischief,  or  conscious  of  ill  desert.  I  went  out  and  met  them  ; 
and  had  an  amicable  conference  with  the  chief,  presenting  him 
with  half  a  pound  of  tobacco,  at  which  unmerited  bounty  he 
expressed  much  gratification.  These  fellows,  or  some  of  their 
companions,  had  committed  a  dastardly  outrage  upon  an 
emigrant  party  in  advance  of  us.  Two  men,  out  on  horseback 
at  a  distance,  were  seized  by  them,  but  lashing  their  horses, 
they  broke  loose  and  fled.  At  this  the  Pawnees  raised  the  yell 
and  shot  at  them,  transfixing  the  hindermost  through  the  back 
with  several  arrows,  while  his  companion  galloped  away  and 
Drought  in  the  news  to  his  party.  The  panic-stricken  emigrants 
remained  for  several  days  in  camp,  not  daring  even  to  send  out 
in  quest  of  the  dead  body. 

The  reader  will  recollect  Turner,  the  man  whose  narrow 
escape  was  mentioned  not  long  since.  We  heard  that  the  men 
whom  the  entreaties  of  his  wife  induced  to  go  in  search  of  him, 
found  him  leisurely  driving  along  his  recovered  oxen,  and 
whistling  in  utter  contempt  of  the  Pawnee  nation.  His  party 
was  encamped  within  two  miles  of  us  ;  but  we  passed  them 
that  morning,  while  the  men  were  driving  in  the  oxen,  and  the 
women  packing  their  domestic  utensils  and  their  numerous  ofT- 
spring  in  the  spacious  patriarchal  wagons.  As  we  looked  back, 
we  saw  their  caravan,  dragging  its  slow  length  along  the  plain  ; 
wearily  toiling  on  its  way,  to  found  new  empires  in  the  West. 

Our  New-England  climate  is  mild  and  equable  compared 


84  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

with  that  of  the  Platte.  This  very  morning,  for  instance,  was 
close  and  sultry,  the  suu  rising  with  a  faint  oppressive  heat ; 
when  suddenly  darkness  gathered  in  the  west,  and  a  furious 
blast  of  sleet  and  hail  drove  full  in  our  faces,  icy  cold,  and 
urged  with  such  demoniac  vehemence  that  it  felt  like  a  storm 
of  needles.  It  was  curious  to  see  the  horses  ;  they  faced  about 
in  extreme  displeasure,  holding  their  tails  like  whipped  dogs, 
and  shivering  as  the  angry  gusts,  howling  louder  than  a  concert 
of  wolves,  swept  over  us.  Wright's  long  train  of  m-ules  came 
sweeping  round  before  the  storm,  like  a  flight  of  brown  snow 
birds  driven  by  a  winter  tempest.  Thus  we  all  remained  sta- 
tionary for  some  minutes,  crouching  close  to  our  horses'  necks, 
much  too  surly  to  speak,  though  once  the  Captain  looked  up  from 
between  the  collars  of  his  coat,  his  face  blood-red,  and  the 
muscles  of  his  mouth  contracted  by  the  cold  into  a  most  lu- 
dicrous grin  of  agony.  He  grumbled  something  that  sounded 
like  a  curse,  directed,  as  we  believed,  against  the  unhappy  hour 
when  he  had  first  thought  of  leaving  home.  The  thing  was  too 
good  to  last  long  ;  and  the  instant  the  puffs  of  wind  subsided  we 
erected  our  tents,  and  remained  in  camp  for  the  rest  of  a  gloomy 
and  lowering  day.  The  emigrants  also  encamped  near  at 
hand.  We  being  first  on  the  ground,  had  appropriated  all  the 
wood  within  reach  ;  so  that  our  fire  alone  blazed  cheerily. 
Around  it  soon  gathered  a  group  of  uncouth  figures,  shivering 
in  the  drizzling  rain.  Conspicuous  among  them  were  two  or 
three  of  the  half-savage  men  who  spend  their  reckless  lives  in 
trapping  among  the  Rocky  Mountains,  or  in  trading  for  the 
Fur  Company  in  the  Indian  villages.  They  were  all  of  Cana- 
dian extraction  ;  their  hard,  weather-beaten  faces  and  bushy 
moustaches  looked  out  from  beneath  the  hoods  of  their  white 


THE    PLATTE    AND    THE    DESERT. 


65 


capotes  with  a  bad  and  brutish  expression,  as  if  their  owner 
might  be  the  willing  agent  of  any  villany.  And  such  in  fact 
is  the  character  of  many  of  these  men. 

On  the  day  following  we  overtook  Kearsley's  wagons,  and 
thenceforward,  for  a  week  or  two,  we  were  fellow-travellers. 
One  good  effect,  at  least,  resulted  from  the  alliance ;  it  mate- 
rially diminished  the  serious  fatigues  of  standing  guard ;  for 
the  party  being  now  more  numerous,  there  were  longer  intervals 
between  each  man's  turns  of  duty. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE      BUFFALO. 


"  Twice  twenty  leagues 
Beyond  remotest  smoke  of  banter's  camp, 
Roams  the  majestic  brute,  in  herds  that  shake 
The  earth  with  thundering  steps." 

Bryant, 

Four  days  on  the  Platte,  and  yet  no  buffalo !  Last  year's 
BJgns  of  them  were  provokingly  abundant;  and  wood  being 
extremely  scarce,  we  found  an  admirable  substitute  in  the  hois 
de  vache,  which  burns  exactly  like  peat,  producing  no  unpleas- 
ant effects.  The  wagons  one  morning  had  left  the  camp  ; 
Shaw  and  I  were  already  on  horseback,  but  Henry  Chatillon 
still  sat  cross-legged  by  the  dead  embers  of  the  fire,  playing 
pensively  with  the  lock  of  his  rifle,  while  his  sturdy  Wyandot 
pony  stood  quietly  behind  him,  looking  over  his  head.  At  last 
he  got  up,  patted  the  neck  of  the  pony  (whom,  from  an  exagger- 
ated appreciation  of  his  merits,  he  had  christened  '  Five  Hun- 
dred Dollar),  and  then  mounted,  with  a  melancholy  air. 

'What  is  it,  Henry?' 

'  Ah,  I  feel  lonesome ;  I  never  been  here  before ;  but  I  see 
away  yonder  over  the  buttes,  and  down  there  on  the  prairie, 
black — all  black  with  buffalo  !' 


THE    BUFFALO.  S7 

In  the  afternoon,  he  and  I  left  the  party  in  search  of  an 
antelope ;  until  at  the  distance  of  a  mile  or  two  on  the  right, 
the  tall  white  wagons  and  the  little  black  specks  of  horsemen 
were  just  visible,  so  slowly  advancing  that  they  seemed  motion- 
less ;  and  far  on  the  left  rose  the  broken  line  of  scorched,  deso- 
late sand-liills.  The  vast  plain  waved  with  tall  rank  grass, 
that  swept  our  horses'  bellies  ;  it  swayed  to  and  fro  in  billows 
with  the  light  breeze,  and  far  and  near  antelope  and  wolves 
were  moving  through  it,  the  hairy  backs  of  the  latter  alternately 
appearing  and  disappearing  as  they  bounded  awkwardly  along  ; 
while  the  antelope,  with  the  simple  curiosity  peculiar  to  them, 
would  often  approach  us  closely,  their  little  horns  and  white 
throats  just  visible  above  the  grass  tops,  as  they  gazed  eagerly 
at  us  with  their  round  black  eyes. 

I  dismounted,  and  amused  myself  with  firing  at  the  wolves. 
Henry  attentively  scrutinized  the  surrounding  landscape ;  at 
length  he  gave  a  shout,  and  called  on  me  to  mount  again,  point- 
ing in  the  direction  of  the  sand-hills.  A  mile  and  a  half  from 
us,  two  minute  black  specks  slowly  traversed  the  face  of  one  of 
the  bare  glaring  declivities,  and  disappeared  behind  the  summit. 
'  Let  us  go !'  cried  Henry,  belaboring  the  sides  of  '  Five  Hun- 
dred Dollar ;'  and  I  following  in  his  wake,  we  galloped  rapidly 
through  the  rank  grass  toward  the  base  of  the  hills. 

From  one  of  their  openings  descended  a  deep  ravine,  widen- 
ing as  it  issued  on  the  prairie.  We  entered  it,  and  galloping 
up,  in  a  moment  were  surrounded  by  the  bleak  sand-hills. 
Half  of  their  steep  sides  were  bare  ;  the  rest  were  scantily 
clothed  with  clumps  of  grass,  and  various  uncouth  plants,  con- 
spicuous among  which  appeared  the  reptile-like  prickly-pear. 
They  were  gashed  with  numberless  ravines ;    and  as  the  sky 


88  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

had  suddenly  darkened,  and  a  cold  gusty  wind  arisen,  the 
strange  shrubs  and  the  dreary  hills  looked  doubly  wild  and 
desolate.  But  Henry's  face  was  all  eagerness.  He  tore  off  a 
little  hair  from  the  piece  of  buffalo-robe  under  his  saddle,  and 
threw  it  up,  to  show  the  course  of  the  wind.  It  blew  directly 
before  us.  The  game  were  therefore  to  windward,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  make  our  best  speed  to  get  round  them. 

We  scrambled  from  this  ravine,  and  galloping  away  through 
the  hollows,  soon  found  another,  winding  like  a  snake  among  the 
hills,  and  so  deep  that  it  completely  concealed  us.  We  rode 
up  the  bottom  of  it,  glancing  through  the  shrubbery  at  its  edge, 
till  Henry  abruptly  jerked  his  rein,  and  slid  out  of  his  saddle. 
Full  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  on  the  outline  of  the  farthest 
hill,  a  long  procession  of  buffalo  were  walking,  in  Indian  file, 
with  the  utmost  gravity  and  deliberation ;  then  more  appeared, 
clambering  from  a  hollow  not  far  off,  and  ascending,  one  behind 
the  other,  the  grassy  slope  of  another  hill ;  then  a  shaggy  head 
and  a  pair  of  short  broken  horns  appeared  issuing  out  of  a 
ravine  close  at  hand,  and  with  a  slow,  stately  step,  one  by  one, 
the  enormous  brutes  came  into  view,  taking  their  way  across 
.he  valley,  wholly  unconscious  of  an  enemy.  In  a  moment 
Henry  was  worming  his  way,  lying  flat  on  the  ground,  through 
grass  and  prickly-pears,  toward  his  unsuspecting  victims.  He 
had  with  him  both  my  rifle  and  his  own.  He  was  soon  out 
of  sight,  and  still  the  buffalo  kept  issuing  into  the  valley.  For 
a  long  time  all  was  silent ;  I  sat  holding  his  horse,  and  wonder- 
ing what  he  was  about,  when  suddenly,  in  rapid  succession, 
came  the  sharp  reports  of  the  two  rifles,  and  the  whole  line  of 
buffalo,  quickening  their  pace  into  a  clumsy  trot,  gradually 


THE    BUFFALO.  89 

disappeared  ovei-  the  ridge  of  tlie  liill.  Henry  rose  to  his  feet, 
and  stood  looking  after  them. 

'  You  have  missed  them,'  said  I. 

'  Yes,'  said  Henry  ;  '  let  us  go.'  He  descended  into  the 
ravine,  loaded  the  rifles,  and  mounted  his  horse. 

We  rode  up  the  hill  after  the  buffalo.  The  herd  was  out 
of  sight  when  we  reached  the  top,  but  lying  on  the  grass,  not 
far  off,  was  one  quite  lifeless,  and  another  violently  struggling 
in  the  death  agony. 

'  You  see  I  miss  him !'  remarked  Henry.  He  had  fired 
from  a  distance  of  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  and 
both  balls  had  passed  through  the  lungs ;  the  true  mark  in 
shooting  buffalo. 

The  darkness  increased,  and  a  driving  storm  came  on. 
Tying  our  horses  to  the  horns  of  the  victims,  Henry  began  the 
bloody  work  of  dissection,  slashing  away  with  the  science  of  a 
connoisseur,  while  I  vainly  endeavored  to  imitate  him.  Old 
Hendrick  recoiled  with  horror  and  indignation  when  I  endeav- 
ored to  tie  the  meat  to  the  strings  of  raw  hide,  always  carried 
for  this  purpose,  dangling  at  the  back  of  the  saddle.  After 
some  difficulty  we  overcame  his  scruples ;  and  heavily  bur- 
dened with  the  more  eligible  portions  of  the  buffalo,  we  set  out 
on  our  return.  Scarcely  had  we  emerged  from  the  labyrinth 
of  gorges  and  ravines,  and  issued  upon  the  open  prairie,  when 
the  prickling  sleet  came  driving,  gust  upon  gust,  directly  in  our 
faces.  It  was  strangely  dark,  though  wanting  still  an  hour  of 
Bunset.  The  freezing  storm  soon  penetrated  to  the  skin,  but  the 
uneasy  trot  of  our  heavy-gaited  horses  kept  us  warm  enough, 
as  we  forced  them  unwillingly  in  the  teeth  of  the  sleet  and 
rain,  by  the  powerful  suasion  of  our  Indian  whips.     The  prai- 


90 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 


rie  in  this  place  was  hard  and  level.  A  flourishing  colony  of 
prairie-dogs  had  burrowed  into  it  in  every  direction,  and  the 
little  mounds  of  fresh  earth  around  their  holes  were  about  as 
numerous  as  the  hills  in  a  corn-field  ;  but  not  a  yelp  was  to  be 
heard;  not  the  nose  of  a  single  citizen  was  visible ;  all  had 
retired  to  the  depths  of  their  burrows,  and  we  envied  them 
their  dry  and  comfortable  habitations.  An  hour's  hard  riding 
showed  us  our  tent  dimly  looming  through  the  storm,  one  side 
puffed  out  by  the  force  of  the  wind,  and  the  other  collapsed  in 
proportion,  while  the  disconsolate  horses  stood  shivering  close 
around,  and  the  wind  kept  up  a  dismal  whistling  in  the  boughs 
of  three  old  half-dead  trees  above.  Shaw,  like  a  patriarch,  sat 
on  his  saddle  in  the  entrance,  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  his 
arms  folded,  contemplating,  with  cool  satisfaction,  the  piles  of 
meat  that  we  flung  on  the  ground  before  him.  A  dark  and 
dreary  night  succeeded  ;  but  the  sun  rose,  with  a  heat  so  sultry 
and  languid  that  the  Captain  excused  himself  on  that  account 
from  waylaying  an  old  buffalo  bull,  who  with  stupid  gravity 
was  walking  over  the  prairie  to  drink  at  the  river.  So  much 
for  the  climate  of  the  Platte  ! 

But  it  was  not  the  weather  alone  that  had  produced  this 
sudden  abatement  of  the  sportsman-like  zeal  which  the  Captain 
had  always  professed.  He  had  been  out  on  the  afternoon  be- 
fore, together  with  several  members  of  his  party ;  but  their 
hunting  was  attended  with  no  other  result  than  the  loss  of  one 
of  their  best  horses,  severely  injured  by  Sorel,  in  vainly  chasing 
a  wounded  bull.  The  Captain,  whose  ideas  of  hard  riding 
were  all  derived  from  transatlantic  sources,  expressed  the 
utmost  amazement  at  the  feats  of  Sorel,  who  went  leaping 
ravines,  and  dashing  at  full  speed  up  and  down  the  sides  of 


TEE    BCJFFALO.  91 

precip:'tous  hills,  lasliing  his  horse  with  the  recklessness  of  a 
Rocky  Mountain  rider.     Unfortunately  for  the  poor  animal,  he 

was  the  proj)erty  of  R ,  against  whom  Sorel  entertained  an 

unbounded  aversion.  The  Captain  himself,  it  seemed,  had  also 
attempted  to  '  run '  a  buffalo,  but  though  a  good  and  practised 
horseman,  he  had  soon  given  over  the  attempt,  being  astonished 
and  utterly  disgusted  at  the  nature  of  the  ground  he  was  re- 
quired to  ride  over. 

Nothing  unusual  occurred  on  that  day  ;  but  on  the  following 
morning,  Henry  Chatillon,  looking  over  the  ocean-like  expanse, 
saw  near  the  foot  of  the  distant  hills  something  that  looked  like 
a  band  of  buffalo.  He  was  not  sure,  he  said,  but  at  all  events, 
if  they  were  buffalo,  there  was  a  fine  chance  for  a  race.  Shaw 
and  1  at  once  determined  to  try  the  speed  of  our  horses. 

'  Come,  Captain ;  we'll  see  which  can  ride  hardest,  a  Yankee 
or  an  Irishman.' 

But  the  Captain  maintained  a  grave  and  austere  counte- 
nance. He  mounted  his  led  horse,  however,  though  very 
slowly  J  and  we  set  out  at  a  trot.  The  game  appeared  about 
three  miles  distant.  As  we  proceeded,  the  Captain  made  va- 
rious remarks  of  doubt  and  indecision  ;  and  at  U  ngth  declared 
he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  such  a  break  neck  business ; 
protesting  that  he  had  ridden  plenty  of  steeple-chases  in  his  day, 
but  he  never  knew  what  riding  was  till  he  found  himself  be- 
hmd  a  band  of  buffalo  day  before  yesterday.  '  I  am  convinced,' 
said  the  Captain,  ■  that  "  running"  is  out  of  the  question.*     Take 

*  The  method  of  hunting  called  '  running,'  consists  in  attacking  the 
buffalo  on  horseback  and  shooting  him  with  bullets  or  arrows  when  at  fiiL 
speed.  In  '  approaching'  the  hunter  conceals  himself,  and  crawls  on  the 
ground  towards  the  game,  or  lies  in  wait  to  kill  them. 


92  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

my  advice  now,  and  don't  attempt  it.     It's  dangerous,  and  of 
no  use  at  all.' 

*  Then  why  did  you  come  out  with  us  ''     What  do  you 
mean  to  do  ?' 

*  I  shall  "  approach,"  '  replied  the  Captain. 

'  You  don't  mean  to  "  approach"  with  your  pistols,  do  you  '? 
We  have  all  of  us  left  our  rifles  in  the  wagons.' 

The  Captain  seemed  staggered  at  this  suggestion.  In  his 
characteristic  indecision,  at  setting  out,  pistols,  rifles,  '  running' 
and  '  approaching'  were  mingled  in  an  inextricable  medley  in 
his  brain.  He  trotted  on  in  silence  between  us  for  a  while  ; 
but  at  length  he  dropped  behind,  and  slowly  walked  his  horse 
back  to  rejoin  the  party.  Shaw  and  I  kept  on ;  when  lo  !  as 
we  advanced,  the  band  of  buff'alo  were  transformed  into  certain 
clumps  of  tall  bushes,  dotting  the  prairie  for  a  considerable  dis- 
tance. At  this  ludicrous  termination  of  our  chase,  we  followed 
the  example  of  our  late  ally,  and  turned  back  toward  the  party. 
We  were  skirting  the  brink  of  a  deep  ravine,  when  we  saw 
Henry  and  the  broad-chested  pony  coming  toward  us  at  a  gallop. 

'  Here's  old  Papin  and  Frederic,  down  from  Fort  Laramie  !' 
shouted  Henry,  long  before  he  came  up.  We  had  for  some 
days  expected  this  encounter.  Papin  was  the  hourgeois  of  Fort 
Laramie.  He  had  come  down  the  river  with  the  buffalo-robes 
and  the  beaver,  the  produce  of  the  last  winter's  trading.  I  had 
among  our  baggage  a  letter  which  I  wished  to  commit  to  their 
hands  ;  so  requesting  Henry  to  detain  the  boats  if  he  could 
until  my  return,  I  set  out  after  the  wagons.  They  were  about 
four  miles  in  advance.  In  half  an  hour  I  overtook  them,  got 
the  letter,  trotted  back  upon  the  trail,  and  looking  carefully,  as 
I  rode,  saw  a  patch  of  broken,  storm-blasted  trees,  and  moving 


THE    BUFFALO.  93 

near  them,  some  little  black  specks  like  men  and  horses.  Arri- 
ving at  tho  place,  I  found  a  strange  assembly.  The  boats, 
eleven  in  number,  deep-laden  with  the  skin^,  hugged  close  to 
the  shore,  to  escape  being  borne  down  by  the  swift  current. 
The  rowers,  swarthy  ignoble  Mexicans,  turned  their  brutish 
faces  upward  to  look,  as  I  reached  the  bank.  Papin  sat  h.  'he 
middle  of  one  of  the  boats  upon  the  canvas  covering  that  pro- 
tected the  robes.  He  was  a  stout,  robust  fellow,  with  a  little 
gray  eye,  that  had  a  peculiarly  sly  twinkle.  '  Frederic,'"  also, 
stretched  his  tall  raw-boned  proportions  close  by  the  lourgeois, 
and  '  mountain  men'  completed  the  group ;  some  lounging  in 
the  boats,  some  strolling  on  shore  ;  some  attired  in  gayly-paintcd 
buffalo  robes,  like  Indian  dandies ;  some  with  hair  saturated 
with  red  paint,  and  beplastered  with  glue  to  their  temples; 
and  one  bedaubed  with  vermilion  upon  the  forehead  and  each 
cheek.  They  were  a  mongrel  race;  yet  the  French  blood 
seemed  to  predominate :  in  a  few,  indeed,  might  be  seen  the 
black  snaky  eye  of  the  Indian  half-breed,  and  one  and  all,  they 
seemed  to  aim  at  assimilating  themselves  to  their  savage  asso- 
ciates. 

I  shook  hands  with  the  bourgeois,  and  delivered  the  letter : 
then  the  boats  swung  round  into  the  stream  and  floated  away. 
They  had  reason  for  haste,  for  already  the  voyage  from  Fort 
Laramie  had  occupied  a  full  month,  and  the  river  was  growing 
daily  more  shallow.  Fifty  times  a  day  the  boats  had  been 
aground  :  indeed,  those  who  navigate  the  Platte  invariably 
spend  half  their  time  upon  sand-bars.  Two  of  these  boats,  the 
property  of  private  traders,  afterwards  separating  from  the  rest, 
got  hopelessly  involved  in  the  shallows,  not  very  far  from  the 
Pawnee  villages,  and  were  soon  surrounded  by  a  swarm  of  the 


94  THE   CALIFORNIA   AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

inhabitants.  They  carried  off  every  thing  that  they  considered 
valuable,  including  most  of  the  robes ;  and  amused  themselves 
by  tying  up  the  men  left  on  guard,  and  soundly  whipping  them 
with  sticks. 

We  encamped  that  night  upon  the  bank  of  the  river.  Among 
the  emigrants  there  was  an  overgrown  boy,  some  eighteen 
years  old,  with  a  head  as  round  and  about  as  large  as  a 
pumpkin,  and  fever-and-ague  fits  had  dyed  his  face  of  a  corres- 
ponding color.  He  wore  an  old  white  hat,  tied  under  his  chin 
with  a  handkerchief:  his  body  was  short  and  stout,  but  his 
legs  of  disproportioned  and  appalling  length.  I  observed  him 
at  sunset,  breasting  the  hill  with  gigantic  strides,  and  standing 
against  the  sky  on  the  summit,  like  a  colossal  pair  of  tongs. 
In  a  moment  after,  we  heard  him  screaming  frantically  behind 
the  ridge,  and  nothing  doubting  that  he  was  in  the  clutches  of 
Indians  or  grizzly  bears,  some  of  the  party  caught  up  their 
rifles  and  ran  to  the  rescue.  His  outcries,  however,  proved 
but  an  ebullition  of  joyous  excitement ;  he  had  chased  two 
little  wolf  pups  to  their  burrow,  and  he  was  on  his  knees,  grub- 
bing away  like  a  dog  at  the  mouth  of  the  hole,  to  get  at 
them. 

Before  morning  he  caused  more  serious  disquiet  in  the  camp. 
It  was  his  turn  to  hold  the  middle-guard  ;  but  no  sooner  was  he 
called  up,  than  he  coolly  arranged  a  pair  of  saddle-bags  under 
a  wagon,  laid  his  head  upon  them,  closed  his  eyes,  opened  his 
mouth,  and  fell  asleep.  The  guard  on  our  side  of  the  camp, 
thinking  it  no  part  of  his  duty  to  look  after  the  cattle  of  the 
emigrants,  contented  himself  with  watching  our  own  horses  and 
mules  ;  the  wolves,  he  said,  were  unusually  noisy  ;  but  still  no 
mischief  was  anticipated  until  the  sun  rose,  and  not  a  hoof  or 


THE    BUFFALO.  95 

horn  was  in  sight !  The  cattle  were  gone  !  While  Tom  was 
quietly  slumbering,  the  wolves  had  driven  them  away. 

Then  we  reaped  the  fruits  of  R 's  precious  plan  of  tra- 
velling in  company  with  emigrants.  To  leave  them  in  their 
distress  was  not  to  be  thought  oi",  and  we  felt  bound  to  wait 
until  the  cattle  could  be  searched  for,  and,  if  possible,  reco^ 
vered.  But  the  reader  may  be  cui'ious  to  know  what  punish- 
ment awaited  the  faithless  Tom.  By  the  wholesome  law  of  the 
prairie,  he  who  falls  asleep  on  guard  is  condemned  to  walk  all 
day,  leading  his  horse  by  the  bridle,  and  we  found  much  fault 
with  our  companions  for  not  enforcing  such  a  sentence  on  the 
offender.  Nevertheless,  had  he  been  of  our  own  party,  I  have 
no  doubt  that  he  would  in  like  manner  have  escaped  scot-free. 
But  the  emigrants  went  farther  than  mere  forbearance  :  they 
decreed  that  since  Tom  couldn't  stand  guard  without  falling 
asleep,  he  shouldn't  stand  guard  at  all,  and  henceforward  his 
slumbers  were  unbroken.  Establishing  such  a  premium  on 
drowsiness  could  have  no  very  beneficial  effect  upon  the  vigi- 
lance of  our  sentinels ;  for  it  is  far  from  agreeable,  after  riding 
from  sunrise  to  sunset,  to  feel  your  slumbers  interrupted  by  the 
butt  of  a  rifle  nudging  your  side,  and  a  sleepy  voice  growling 
in  your  ear  that  you  must  get  up,  to  shiver  and  freeze  for  three 
weary  hours  at  midnight. 

'  Buffalo  !  buffalo  !'  It  was  but  a  grim  old  bull,  roaming 
the  prairie  by  himself  in  misanthropic  seclusion  ;  but  there 
might  be  more  behind  the  hills.  Dreading  the  monotony 
and  languor  of  the  camp,  Shaw  and  I  saddled  our  horses, 
buckled  our  holsters  in  their  places,  and  set  out  with  Henry 
Chatillon  in  search  of  the  game.  Henry,  not  intending  to  take 
part  in  the  chase,  but  merely  conducting  us,  carried  his  rifle 


96  THE   CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

witli  him,  wliile  we  left  ours  behind  as  incumbrances.     We 
rode  for  some  five  or  six  miles,  and  saw   no  living  thing  but 
wolves,  snakes,  and  prairie-dogs. 
'  This  won't  do  at  all,'  said  Shaw. 

*  What  won't  do  V 

*  There's  no  wood  about  here  to  make  a  litter  for  the 
wounded  man :  I  have  an  idea  that  one  of  us  will  need  some- 
thing of  the  sort  before  the  day  is  over.' 

There  was  some  foundation  for  such  an  apprehension,  for 
the  ground  was  none  of  the  best  for  a  race,  and  grew  worse 
continually  as  we  proceeded ;  indeed,  it  soon  became  despe- 
rately bad,  consisting  of  abrupt  hills  and  deep  hollows,  cut  by 
frequent  ravines  not  easy  to  pass.  At  length,  a  mile  in  ad- 
vance, we  saw  a  band  of  bulls.  Some  were  scattered  grazing 
over  a  green  declivity,  while  the  rest  were  crowded  more 
densely  together  in  the  wide  hollow  below.  Making  a  circuit, 
lo  keep  out  of  sight,  we  rode  toward  them,  until  we  ascended 
a  hill,  within  a  furlong  of  them,  beyond  which  nothing  inter- 
vened that  could  possibly  screen  us  from  their  view.  We  dis- 
mounted behind  the  ridge  just  out  of  sight,  drew  our  saddle- 
girths,  examined  our  pistols,  and  mounting  again,  rode  over  the 
hill,  and  descended  at  a  canter  toward  them,  bending  close  to 
our  horses'  necks.  Instantly  they  took  the  alarm  ;  those  on  the 
hill  descended  ;  those  below  gathered  into  a  mass,  and  the  whole 
got  in  motion,  shouldering  each  other  along  at  a  clumsy  gallop. 
We  followed,  spurring  our  horses  to  full  speed ;  and  as  the 
herd  rushed,  crowding  and  trampling  in  terror  through  an 
opening  in  the  hills,  we  were  close  at  their  heels,  half  suffocated 
by  the  clouds  of  dust.  But  as  we  drew  near,  their  alarm  and 
speed  increased ;   our  horses  showed  signs  of  the  utmost  fear, 


THE   BUFFALO.  97 

bounding  violently  aside  as  we  approached,  and  refusing  to  enter 
among  the  herd.  The  buffalo  now  broke  into  several  small 
bodies,  scampering  over  the  hills  in  different  directions,  and  I 
lost  sight  of  Shaw ;  neither  of  us  knew  where  the  other  had 
gone.  Old  Pontiac  ran  like  a  frantic  elephant  up  hill  and  down 
hill,  his  ponderous  hoofs  striking  the  prairie  like  sledge-ham- 
mers. He  showed  a  curious  mixture  of  eagerness  and  terror, 
straining  to  overtake  the  panic-stricken  herd,  but  constantly 
recoiling  in  dismay  as  we  drew  near.  The  fugitives,  indeed, 
offered  no  very  attractive  spectacle,  with  their  enormous  size 
and  weight,  their  shaggy  manes  and  the  tattered  remnants  of 
their  last  winter's  hair  covering  their  backs  in  irregular  shreds 
and  patches,  and  flying  off  in  the  wind  as  they  ran.  At  length 
I  urged  my  horse  close  behind  a  bull,  and  after  trying  in  vain, 
by  blows  and  spurring,  to  bring  him  along  side,  I  shot  a  bullet 
into  the  buffalo  from  this  disadvantageous  position.  At  the 
report,  Pontiac  swerved  so  much  that  I  was  again  thrown  a 
little  behind  the  game.  The  bullet  entering  too  much  in  the 
rear,  failed  to  disable  the  bull,  for  a  buffalo  requires  to  be  shot 
at  particular  powits,  or  he  will  certainly  escape.  The  herd  ran 
up  a  hill,  and  I  followed  in  pursuit.  As  Pontiac  rushed  head- 
long down  on  the  other  side,  I  saw  Shaw  and  Henry  descending 
the  hollow  on  the  right,  at  a  leisurely  gallop ;  and  in  front,  the 
buffalo  were  just  disappearing  behind  the  crest  of  the  next  hill, 
their  short  tails  erect,  and  their  hoofs  twinkling  through  a  cloud 
of  dust. 

At  that  moment,  I  heard  Shaw  and  Henry  shouti»ig  to  me  ; 
but  the  muscles  of  a  stronger  arm  than  mine  could  not  have 
checked  at  once  the  furious  course  of  Pontiac,  whose  mouth 
was  as  insensible  as  leather.     Added  to  this,  I  rode  him  that 


98  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

morning  with  a  ccnimon  snaffle,  having  the  day  before,  for  the 
benefit  of  my  other  horse,  unbuckled  from  my  bridle  the  curb 
which  I  ordinarily  used.  A  stronger  and  hardier  brute  never 
trod  the  prairie ;  but  the  novel  sight  of  the  buffalo  filled  him 
with  terror,  and  when  at  full  speed  he  was  almost  incontrolla- 
ble.  Gaining  the  top  of  the  ridge,  I  saw  nothing  of  the  buffalo ; 
they  had  all  vanished  amid  the  intricacies  of  the  hills  and  hol- 
lows. Reloading  my  pistols,  in  the  best  way  I  could,  I  galloped 
on  until  I  saw  them  again  scuttling  along  at  the  base  of  the  hill, 
their  panic  somewhat  abated.  Down  went  old  Pontiac  among 
them,  scattering  them  to  the  right  and  left,  and  then  we  had 
another  long  chase.  About  a  dozen  bulls  were  before  us, 
scouring  over  the  hills,  rushing  down  the  declivities  with  tre- 
mendous weight  and  impetuosity,  and  then  laboring  with  a 
weary  gallop  upward.  Still  Pontiac,  in  spite  of  spuiring  and 
beating,  would  not  close  with  them.  One  bull  at  length  fell  a 
little  behind  the  rest,  and  by  dint  of  much  effort,  I  urged  my 
horse  within  six  or  eight  yards  of  his  side.  His  back  was 
darkened  with  sweat :  he  was  panting  heavily,  while  his  tongue 
lolled  out  a  foot  from  his  jaws.  Gradually  I  came  up  abreast 
of  him,  urging  Pontiac  with  leg  and  rein  nearer  to  his  side, 
when  suddenly  he  did  what  buffalo  in  such  circumstances  will 
always  do ;  he  slackened  his  gallop,  and  turning  toward  us, 
with  an  aspect  of  mingled  ;  age  and  distress,  lowered  his  huge 
shaggy  head  for  a  charge.  Pontiac,  with  a  snort,  leaped  aside 
in  terror,  nearly  throwing  me  to  the  ground,  as  I  was  wholly 
unprepared  for  such  an  evolution.  I  raised  my  pistol  in  a  pas- 
sion to  strike  him  on  the  head,  but  thinking  better  of  it,  fired  the 
bullet  after  the  bull,  who  had  resumed  his  flight;  then  drew 
rein,  and  determined  to  rejoin  my  companions.     It  was  high 


THE    BUFFALO.  99 

time.  The  breath  blew  hard  from  Pontiac's  nostrils,  and  the 
sweat  rolled  in  big  drops  down  his  sides;  I  myself  felt  as  if 
drenched  in  warm  water.  Pledging  myself  (and  I  redeemed 
the  pledge)  to  take  my  revenge  at  a  future  opportunity,  I  looked 
round  for  some  indications  to  show  me  where  I  was,  and  what 
course  I  ought  to  pursue  ;  I  might  as  well  have  looked  for  land- 
marks in  the  midst  of  the  ocean.  How  many  miles  1  had  run, 
or  in  what  direction,  I  had  no  idea ;  and  around  me  the  prairie 
was  rolling  in  steep  swells  and  pitches,  without  a  single  dis- 
tinctive feature  to  guide  me.  I  had  a  little  compass  hung  at 
my  neck  ;  and  ignorant  that  the  Platte  at  this  point  diverged 
considerably  from  its  easterly  course,  I  thought  that  by  keeping 
to  the  northward  I  should  certainly  reach  it.  So  I  turned  and 
rode  about  two  hours  in  that  direction.  The  prairie  changed  as 
I  advanced,  softening  away  into  easier  undulations,  but  nothing 
like  the  Platte  appeared,  nor  any  sign  of  a  human  being ;  the 
same  wild  endless  expanse  lay  around  me  still ;  and  to  all  ap- 
pearance I  was  as  far  from  my  object  as  ever.  I  began  now 
to  consider  myself  in  danger  of  being  lost ;  and  therefore, 
reining  in  my  horse,  summoned  the  scanty  share  of  woodcraft 
that  I  possessed  (if  that  term  be  applicable  upon  the  prairie)  to 
extricate  me.  Looking  round,  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  buffalo 
might  prove  my  best  guides.  I  soon  found  one  of  the  paths 
made  by  them  in  their  passage  to  the  river ;  it  ran  nearly  at 
right  angles  to  my  course  ;  but  turning  my  horse's  head  in  the 
direction  it  indicated,  his  freer  gait  and  erected  ears  assured  me 
that  I  was  right. 

But  in  the  mean  time  my  ride  had  been  by  no  means  a  soli- 
tary one.  Th3  whole  face  of  the  country  was  dotted  far  and 
wide  with  cour  tless  hundreds  of  buffalo.     They  trooped  along 


100         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

in  files  and  columns,  bulls,  ccws  and  calves,  on  the  green  faces 
of  the  declivities  in  front.  They  scrambled  away  over  the 
hills  to  the  right  and  left  ;  and  far  off,  the  pale  blue  swells  in 
the  extreme  distance  were  dotted  with  innumerable  specks. 
Sometimes  I  surprised  shaggy  old  bulls  grazing  alone,  or 
sleeping  behind  the  ridges  I  ascended.  They  would  leap  up 
at  my  approach,  stare  stupidly  at  me  through  their  tangled 
manes,  and  then  gallop  heavily  away.  The  antelope  were 
very  numerous;  and  as  they  are  always  bold  when  in  the 
neighborhood  of  buffalo,  they  would  approach  quite  near  to 
look  at  me,  gazing  intently  with  their  great  round  eyes,  then 
suddenly  leap  aside,  and  stretch  lightly  away  over  the  prairie, 
as  swiftly  as  a  race-horse.  Squalid,  ruffian-like  wolves  sneaked 
through  the  hollows  and  sandy  ravines.  Several  times  I  passed 
through  villages  of  prairie-dogs,  who  sat,  each  at  the  mouth  of 
his  burrow,  holding  his  paws  before  him  in  a  supplicating 
attitude,  and  yelping  away  most  vehemently,  energetically 
whisking  his  little  tail  with  every  squeaking  cry  he  uttered. 
Prairie-dogs  are  not  fastidious  in  their  choice  of  companions ; 
various  long,  checkered  snakes  were  sunning  themselves  in 
the  midst  of  the  village,  and  demure  little  gray  owls,  with  a 
large  white  ring  around  each  eye,  were  perched  side  by  side 
with  the  rightful  inhabitants.  The  prairie  teemed  with  life. 
Again  and  again  I  looked  toward  the  crowded  hill-sides,  and 
was  sure  I  saw  horsemen ;  and  riding  near,  with  a  mixture 
of  hope  and  dread,  for  Indians  were  abroad,  I  found  them 
transformed  into  a  group  of  buffalo.  There  was  nothing  in 
human  shape  amid  all  this  vast  congregation  of  brute  forms. 

When  I  turned  down  the  buffalo  path,  the  prairie  seemed 
changed ;  only  a  wolf  or  two  glided  past  at  intervals,  like  con- 


THE    BUFFALO. 


101 


scious  felons,  never  looking  to  the  right  or  left.  Being  now 
free  from  anxiety,  I  was  at  leisure  to  observe  minutely  the 
objects  around  me  ;  and  here,  for  the  first  time,  I  noticed  in- 
sects wholly  different  from  any  of  the  varieties  found  farther 
to  the  eastward.  Gaudy  butterflies  fluttered  about  my  horse's 
head  ;  strangely  formed  beetles,  glittering  with  metallic  lustre, 
were  crawling  upon  plants  that  I  had  never  seen  before ;  mul- 
titudes of  lizards,  too,  were  darting  like  lightning  over  the  sand. 
1  had  run  to  a  great  distance  from  the  river.  It  cost  me 
a  long  ride  on  the  buffalo  path,  before  I  saw,  from  the  ridge 
of  a  sand-hill,  the  pale  surface  of  the  Platte  glistening  in  the 
midst  of  its  desert  valleys,  and  the  faint  outline  of  the  hills 
beyond  waving  along  the  sky.  From  where  I  stood,  not  a  tree 
nor  a  bush  nor  a  living  thing  was  visible  throughout  the  whole 
extent  of  the  sun-scorched  landscape.  In  half  an  hour  I  came 
upon  the  trail,  not  far  from  tlie  river ;  and  seeing  that  the 
party  had  not  yet  passed,  I  turned  eastward  to  meet  them,  old 
Pontiac's  long  swinging  trot  again  assuring  me  that  I  was  right 
in  doing  so.  Having  been  slightly  ill  on  leaving  camp  in  the 
morning,  six  or  seven  hours  of  rough  riding  had  fatigued  me 
extremely.  I  soon  stopped,  therefore  ;  flung  my  saddle  on 
the  ground,  and  with  my  head  resting  on  it,  and  my  horse's 
trail-rope  tied  loosely  to  my  arm,  lay  waiting  the  arrival  of 
the  party,  speculating  meanwhile  on  the  extent  of  the  injuries 
Pontiac  had  received.  At  length  the  white  wagon  coverings 
rose  from  the  verge  of  the  plain.  By  a  singular  coincidence, 
almost  at  the  same  moment  two  horsemen  appeared  coming 
down  from  the  hills.  They  were  Shaw  and  Henry,  who  had 
searched  for  me  awhile  in  the  morning,  but  well  knowing  the 
futility  of  the  attempt  in  such  a  broken  country,  had  placed 


102  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

themselves  on  the  top  of  the  highest  hill  they  could  find,  and 
picketing  their  horses  near  them,  as  a  signal  to  me,  had  laid 
down  and  fallen  asleep.  The  stray  cattle  had  been  recovered, 
as  the  emigrants  told  us,  about  noon.  Before  sunset,  we 
pushed  forward  eight  miles  farther. 

'June  7,  1846. — Four  men  are  missing  ;  R ,  Sorel,  and  two  emi- 
grants. They  set  out  this  morning  after  buffalo,  and  have  not  yet  made  their 
appearance  ;  whether  killed  or  lost,  we  cannot  tell.' 

I  find  the  above  in  my  note-book,  and  well  remember  the 
council  held  on  the  occasion.  Our  fire  was  the  scene  of  it ;  for 
the  palpable  superiority  of  Henry  Chatillon's  experience  and' 
skill  made  him  the  resort  of  the  whole  camp  upon  every  question 
of  difficulty.  He  was  moulding  bullets  at  the  fire,  when  the 
Captain  drew  near,  with  a  perturbed  and  care-worn  e.xpression 
of  countenance,  faithfully  reflected  on  the  heavy  features  of 
Jack,  who  followed  close  behind.  Then  emigrants  came 
straggling  from  their  wagons  towards  the  common  centre ; 
various  suggestions  were  made,  to  account  for  the  absence  of  the 
four  men  ;  and  one  or  two  of  the  emigrants  declared,  that  when 
out  after  the  cattle,  they  had  seen  Indians  dogging  them,  and 
crawling  like  wolves  along  the  ridges  of  the  hills.  At  this  the 
Captain  slowly  shook  his  head  with  double  gravity,  and  solemnly 
remarked : 

'  It's  a  serious  thing  to  be  travelling  through  this  cursed 
wilderness;'  an  opinion  in  which  Jack  immediately  expressed 
a  thorough  coincidence.  Henry  would  not  commit  himself  by 
declaring  any  positive  opinion  : 

*  Maybe  he  only  follow  the  buffalo  too  far ;  maybe  Indian 
kill  him  ;  maybe  he  got  lost ;  I  cannot  tell !' 

With  this  the  auditors  were  obliged  to  rest  content;  the 


THE    BUFFALO.  103 

emigrants,  not  in  the  least  alarmed,  though  curious  to  know 
what  had  become  of  their  comrades,  walked  back  to  their  wagons, 
and  the  Captain  betook  himself  pensively  to  his  tent.  Shaw 
and  I  followed  his  example. 

'  It  will  be  a  bad  thing  for  our  plans,' said  he  as  we  entered, 
'  if  these  fellows  don't  get  back  safe.  The  Captain  is  as 
helpless  on  the  prairie  as  a  child.  We  shall  have  to  take  him 
and  his  brother  in  tow  ;  they  will  hang  on  us  like  lead.' 

'  The  prairie  is  a  strange  place,'  said  I.  '  A  month  ago  I 
should  have  thought  it  rathej  a  startling  affair  to  have  an 
acquaintance  ride  out  in  the  morning  and  lose  his  scalp  before 
night,  but  here  it  seems  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world ; 
not  that  I  believe  that  R has  lost  his  yet.' 

If  a  man  is  constitutionally  liable  to  nervous  apprehensions, 
a  tour  on  the  distant  prairies  would  prove  the  best  prescription; 
for  though  when  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
he  may  at  times  find  himself  placed  in  circumstances  of  some 
danger,  I  believe  that  few  ever  breathe  that  reckless  atmos 
phere  without  becoming  almost  indifferent  to  any  evil  chance 
that  may  befall  themselves  or  their  friends. 

Shaw  had  a  propensity  for  luxurious  indulgence.  He  spread 
his  blanket  with  the  utmost  accuracy  on  the  ground,  picked  up 
the  sticks  and  stones  that  he  thought  might  interfere  with  his 
comfort,  adjusted  his  saddle  to  serve  as  a  pillow,  and  composed 
himself  for  his  night's  rest.  I  had  the  first  guard  that  evening  ; 
so,  taking  my  rifle,  I  went  out  of  the  tent.  It  was  perfectly 
dark.  A  brisk  wind  blew  down  from  the  hills,  and  the  sparks 
from  the  fire  were  streaming  over  the  prairie.  One  of  the 
emigrants,  named  Morton,  was  mj^  companion  ;  and  laying  our 
rifles  on  the  grass,  we  sat  down  together  by  the  fire.     Morton 


'   L 


104  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREKON    TRAIL. 

was  a  Kentuckian,  an  athletic  fellow,  wiili  a  fine  intelligent  face, 
and  in  his  manners  and  conversation  he  showed  the  essential 
characteristics  of  a  gentleman.  Our  conversation  turned  on  the 
pioneers  of  his  ga.iant  native  state.  The  three  hours  of  our 
watch  dragged  away  at  last,  and  we  went  to  call  up  the  relief. 

R 's  guard  succeeded  mine.     He  was  absent ;  but  the 

Captain,  anxious  lest  the  camp  should  be  left  defenceless,  had 
volunteered  to  stand  in  his  place  ;  so  I  went  to  wake  him  up. 
There  was  no  occasion  for  it,  for  the  Captain  had  been  awake 
since  nightfall.  A  fire  was  blazing  outside  of  the  tent,  and  by 
the  light  which  struck  through  the  canvas,  I  saw  him  and  Jack 
lying  on  their  backs,  with  their  eyes  wide  open.  The  Captain 
responded  instantly  to  my.  call ;  he  jumped  up,  seized  the 
double-barrelled  rifle,  and  came  out  of  the  tent  with  an  air  of 
solemn  determination,  as  if  about  to  devote  himself  to  the  safety 
of  the  party.  I  went  and  lay  down,  not  doubting  that  for  the 
next  three  hours  our  slumbers  would  be  guarded  with  sufficient 
vigilance. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


TAKING     FRENCH     LEAVE 


'Parting  is  such  sweet  sorrow  I" 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 


On  the  eighth  of  June,  at  eleven  o'clock,  we  reached  the 
South  Fork  of  the  Platte,  at  the  usual  fording-place.  For 
league  upon  league  the  desert  uniformity  of  the  prospect  was 
almost  unbroken  ;  the  hills  were  dotted  with  little  tufts  of 
shrivelled  grass,  but  betwixt  these  the  white  sand  was  glaring 
in  the  sun  ;  and  the  channel  of  the  river,  almost  on  a  level 
with  the  plain,  was  but  one  great  sand-bed,  about  half  a  mile 
wide.  It  was  covered  with  water,  but  so  scantily  that  the  bot- 
tom was  scarcely  hidden  ;  for,  wide  as  it  is,  the  average  depth 
of  the  Platte  does  not  at  this  point  exceed  a  foot  and  a  half. 
Stopping  near  its  bank,  we  gathered  hois  de  vache,  and  made  a 
meal  of  buffalo-meat.  Far  off,  on  the  other  side,  was  a  green 
meadow,  where  we  could  see  the  white  tents  and  wagons  of  an 
emigrant  camp  ;  and  just  opposite  to  us  we  could  discern  a 
group  of  men  and  animals  at  the  water's  edge.  Four  or  five 
horsemen  soon  entered  the  river,  and  in  ten  minutes  had  waded 
across  £Uid  clambered  up  the  loose  sand-bank.     They  were  ill- 

4* 


106  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

looking  fellows,  thin  and  swarthy,  with  care-worn  anxious  faces, 
and  lips  rigidly  compressed.  They  had  good  cause  for  anxiety  ; 
it  was  three  days  since  they  first  encamped  here,  and  on  the 
night  of  their  arrival  they  had  lost  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
three  of  their  best  cattle,  driven  off  by  the  wolves,  through 
the  neglect  of  the  man  on  guard.  This  discouraging  and 
alarming  calamity  was  not  the  first  that  had  overtaken  them. 
Since  leaving  the  settlements,  they  had  met  with  nothing  but 
misfortune.  Some  of  their  party  had  died  ;  one  man  had  been 
killed  by  the  Pawnees  ;  and  about  a  week  before,  they  had 
been  plundered  by  the  Dahcotahs  of  all  their  best  horses,  the 
wretched  animals  on  which  our  visitors  were  mounted  being 
the  only  ones  that  were  left.  They  had  encamped,  they  told 
us,  near  sunset,  by  the  side  of  the  Platte,  and  their  oxen  were 
scattered  over  the  meadow,  while  the  band  of  horses  were  feed- 
ing a  little  farther  off.  Suddenly  the  ridges  of  the  hills  were 
alive  with  a  swarm  of  mounted  Indians,  at  least  six  hundred  in 
number,  who,  with  a  tremendous  yell,  came  pouring  down 
toward  the  camp,  rushing  up  within  a  few  rods,  to  the  great 
terror  of  the  emigrants ;  but  suddenly  wheeling,  they  swept 
around  the  band  of  horses,  and  in  five  minutes  had  disappeared 
with  their  prey  through  the  openings  of  the  hills. 

As  these  emigrants  were  telling  their  story,  we  saw  four 

other  men  approaching.     They  proved  to  be  R and   his 

companions,  who  had  encountered  no  mischance  of  any  kind, 
but  had  only  wandered  too  far  in  pursuit  of  the  game.  They 
said  they  had  seen  no  Indians,  but  only  '  millions  of  buffalo  ;' 

and   both   R and  Sorel   had  meat  dangling  behind  their 

saddles. 

The  emigrants  re-crossed  the   river,  and   we  prepared  to 


TAKING    FRENCH    LEAVE.  107 

follow.  First  the  heavy  ox-wagons  plunged  down  the  bank, 
and  dragged  slowly  over  the  sand-beds  ;  sometimes  the  hoofs 
of  the  oxen  were  scarcely  wetted  by  the  thin  sheet  of  water ; 
and  the  next  moment  the  river  would  be  boiling  against  their 
sides,  and  eddying  fiercely  around  the  wheels.  Inch  by  inch 
they  receded  from  the  shore,  dwindling  every  moment,  until  at 
length  they  seemed  to  be  floating  far  out  in  the  very  middle  of 
the  river.  A  more  critical  experiment  awaited  us ;  for  our 
little  mule-cart  was  but  ill-fitted  for  the  passage  of  so  swift  a 
stream.  We  watched  it  with  anxiety  till  it  seemed  to  be  a  little 
motionless  white  speck  in  the  midst  of  the  Waters ;  and  it  was 
motionless,  for  it  had  stuck  fast  in  a  quicksand.  The  little 
mules  were  losing  their  footing,  the  wheels  were  sinking  deeper 
and  deeper,  and  the  water  began  to  rise  through  the  bottom  and 
drench  the  goods  within.  All  of  us  who  had  remained  on  the 
hither  bank  galloped  to  the  rescue  ;  the  men  jumped  into  the 
water,  adding  their  strength  to  that  of  the  mules,  until  by  much 
effort  the  cart  was  extricated,  and  conveyed  in  safety  across. 

As  we  gained  the  other  bank,  a  rough  group  of  men  sur- 
rounded us.  They  were  not  robust,  nor  large  of  frame,  yet 
they  had  an  aspect  of  hardy  endurance.  Finding  at  home  no 
scope  for  their  fiery  energies,  they  had  betaken  themselves  to 
the  prairie  ;  and  in  them  seemed  to  be  revived,  with  redoubled 
force,  that  fierce  spirit  which  impelled  their  ancestors,  scarce 
more  lawless  than  themselves,  from  the  German  forests,  to  in- 
undate Europe,  and  break  to  pieces  the  Roman  empire,  A 
fortnight  afterward,  this  unfortunate  party  passed  Fort  Lara- 
mie, while  we  were  there.  Not  one  of  their  missing  oxen  had 
been  recovered,  though  they  had  remained  encamped  a  week 
in  search  of  them  ;    and  they  had  been  compelled  to  abandon 


108  THE   CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

a  great  part  of  tlieir  baggage  and  provisions,  and  yoke  cows 
and  heifers  to  their  wagons  to  carry  them  forward  upon  their 
journey,  the  most  toilsome  and  hazardous  part  of  which  lay 
still  before  them. 

It  is  worth  noticing,  that  on  the  Platte  one  may  sometimes 
see  the  shattered  wrecks  of  ancient  claw,  footed  tables,  well 
waxed  and  rubbed,  or  massive  bureaus  of  carved  oak.  These, 
many  of  them  no  doubt  the  relics  of  ancestral  prosperity  in  the 
colonial  time,  must  have  encountered  strange  vicissitudes. 
Imported,  perhaps,  originally  from  England  ;  then,  with  the 
declining  fortunes  of  their  owners,  borne  across  the  AUeghanies 
to  the  remote  wilderness  of  Ohio  or  Kentucky  ;  then  to  Illinois 
or  Missouri ;  and  now  at  last  fondly  stowed  away  in  the  family 
wagon  for  the  interminable  journey  to  Oregon.  But  the  stern 
privations  of  the  way  are  little  anticipated.  The  cherished 
relic  is  soon  flung  out  to  scorch  and  crack  upon  the  hot 
prairie. 

We  resumed  our  journey ;  but  we  had  gone  scarcely  a 
mile,  when  R called  out  from  the  rear : 

*  We'll  'camp  here.' 

'  Why  do  you  want  to  'canp  ?  Look  at  the  sun.  It  is  not 
three  o'clock  yet.' 

'  We'll  'camp  here !' 

This  was  the  only  reply  vouchsafed.  Delorier  was  in 
advance  with  his  cart.  Seeing  ihe  mule-wagon  wheeling  from 
the  track,  he  began  to  turn  his  own  team  in  the  same  direction. 

*  Gro  on,  Delorier;'  and  the  little  cart  advanced  again.  As 
we  rode  on,  we  soon  heard  the  wagon  of  our  confederates 
creaking  and  jolting  on  behind  us,  and  the  driver,  Wright,  dis- 
charging  a  furious  volley  of  oaths  against  his  mules ;  no  doubt 


TAKING  FRENCH  LEAVE.  109 

venting  upon  them  the  wrath  which  he  dared  not  direct  against 
a  more  appropriate  object. 

Something  of  this  sort  had  frequently  occurred.  Our  En- 
glish friend  was  by  no  means  partial  to  us,  and  we  thought  we 
discovered  in  his  conduct  a  deliberate  intention  to  thwart  and 
annoy  us,  especially  by  retarding  the  movements  of  the  party 
which  he  knew  that  we,  being  Yankees,  were  anxious  t 
quicken.  Therefore  he  would  insist  on  encamping  at  all  un- 
seasonable hours,  saying  that  fifteen  miles  was  a  sufficient  day's 
journey.  Finding  our  wishes  systematically  disregarded,  we 
took   the  direction  of  affairs  into  our  own  hands.      Keeping 

always  in  advance,  to  the  inexpressible  indignation  of  R , 

we  encamped  at  what  time  and  place  we  thought  proper,  not 
much  caring  whether  the  rest  chose  to  follow  or  not.  They 
always  did  so,  however,  pitching  their  tent  near  ours,  with 
sullen  and  wrathful  countenances. 

Travelling  together  on  these  agreeable  terms  did  not  suit 
our  tastes  ;  for  some  time  we  had  meditated  a  separation.  The 
connection  with  this  party  had  cost  us  various  delays  and  incon- 
veniences ;  and  the  glaring  want  of  courtesy  and  good  sense 
displayed  by  their  virtual  leader  did  not  dispose  us  to  bear  these 
annoyances  with  much  patience.  We  resolved  to  leave  camp 
early  in  the  morning,  and  push  forward  as  rapidly  as  possible 
for  Fort  Laramie,  which  we  hoped  to  reach,  by  hard  travelling, 
in  four  or  five  days.  The  Captain  soon  trotted  up  between  us, 
and  we  explained  our  intentions. 

'  A  very  extraordinary  proceeding,  upon  my  word !'  he  re- 
marked. Then  he  began  to  enlarge  upon  the  enormity  of  the 
design.  The  most  prominent  impression  in  his  mind  evidently 
was,  that  we  were  acting  a  base  and  treacherous  part  in  desert- 


110 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 


ing  his  party,  in  what  he  considered  a  very  dangerous  stage  of 
the  journey.  To  palliate  the  atrocity  of  our  conduct,  we  ven- 
tured to  suggest  that  we  were  only  four  in  number,  while  his 
party  still  included  sixteen  men ;  and  as,  moreover,  we  were  to 
go  forward  and  they  were  to  follow,  at  least  a  full  proportion 
of  the  perils  he  apprehended  would  fall  upon  us.  But  the  aus- 
terity of  the  Captain's  features  would  not  relax.  'A  very 
e.xtraordinary  proceeding,  gentlemen  !'  and  repeating  this,  he 
rode  off  to  confer  with  his  principal. 

By  good  luck,  we  found  a  meadow  of  fresh  grass,  and  a 
large  pool  of  rain-water  in  the  midst  of  it.  We  encamped 
here  at  sunset.  Plenty  of  buffalo  skulls  were  lying  around, 
bleaching  in  the  sun ;  and  sprinkled  thickly  among  the  grass 
was  a  great  variety  of  strange  flowers.  I  had  nothing  else  to 
do,  and  so  gathering  a  handful,  I  sat  down  on  a  buffalo-skull  to 
study  them.  Although  the  offspring  of  a  wilderness,  their  tex- 
ture was  frail  and  delicate,  and  their  colors  extremely  rich : 
pure  white,  dark  blue,  and  a  transparent  crimson.  One  travel- 
ling in  this  country  seldom  has  leisure  to  think  of  any  thing 
but  the  stern  features  of  the  scenery  and  its  accompaniments, 
or  the  practical  details  of  each  day's  journey.  Like  them,  he 
and  his  thoughts  grow  hard  and  rough.  But  now  these  flowers 
suddenly  awakened  a  train  of  associations  as  alien  to  the  rude 
scene  around  me  as  they  were  themselves  ;  and  for  the  moment 
my  thoughts  went  back  to  New  England.  A  throng  of  fair 
and  well-remembered  faces  rose,  vividly  as  life,  before  me. 
*  There  are  good  things,'  thought  I,  '  in  the  savage  life,  but  what 
can  it  offer  to  replace  those  powerful  and  ennobling  influences 
that  can  reach  unimpaired  over  more  than  three  thousand  miles 
of  mountains,  forests,  and  deserts  ?' 


TAKING  FRENCH  LEAVE.  Ill 

Before  sunrise  on  the  next  morning,  our  tent  was  down  ;  we 
harnessed  our  best  liorses  to  the  cart  and  left  the  camp.  But 
first  we  shook  hands  with'  our  friends  the  emigrants,  who  sin- 
cerely wished  us  a  safe  journey,  though  some  others  of  the 
parly  might  easily  have  been  consoled  had  we  encountered  an 
Indian  war-party  on  the  way.  The  Captain  and  his  brother 
were  standing  on  the  top  of  a  hill,  wrapped  in  their  plaids,  like 
spirits  of  the  mist,  keeping  an  anxious  eye  on  the  band  of  horses 
below.  We  waved  adieu  to  them  as  we  rode  off  the  ground. 
The  Captain  replied  with  a  salutation  of  the  utmost  dignity, 
w^hich  Jack  tried  to  imitate ;  but  being  little  practised  in  the 
gestures  of  polite  society,  his  effort  was  not  a  very  successful 
one. 

In  five  minutes  we  had  gauied  the  foot  of  the  hills,  but  here 
we  came  to  a  stop.  Old  Hendrick  was  in  the  shafts,  and  being 
the  very  incarnation  of  perverse  and  brutish  obstinacy,  he  utter- 
ly refused  to  move.  Delorier  lashed  and  swore  till  he  was 
tired,  but  Hendi'ick  stood  like  a  rock,  grumbling  to  himself  and 
looking  askance  at  his  enemy,  until  he  saw  a  favorable  oppor- 
tunity to  take  his  revenge,  when  he  struck  out  under  the  shaft 
with  such  cool  malignity  of  intention  that  Delorier  only  escaped 
the  blow  by  a  sudden  skip  into  the  air,  such  as  no  one  but  a 
Frenchman  could  achieve.  Shaw  and  he  then  joined  forces, 
and  lashed  on  both  sides  at  once.  The  brute  stood  still  for  a 
while  till  he  could  bear  it  no  longer,  when  all  at  once  he  began 
to  kick  and  plunge  till  he  threatened  the  utter  demolition  of  the 
cart  and  harness.  We  glanced  back  at  the  camp,  which  was 
in  full  sight.  ,  Our  companions,  inspired  by  emulation,  were 
levelling  their  tents  and  driving  in  their  cattle  and  horses. 

'  Take  the  horse  out,'  said  I. 


112  THE   CALIFORNIA    4.ND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

I  took  the  saddle  from  Pontiac  and  put  it  upon  Hendrick ; 
the  former  was  harnessed  to  the  cart  in  an  instant.  '  Avance 
done ! '  cried  Delorier.  Pontiac  strode  up  the  hill,  twitching 
the  little  cart  after  him  as  if  it  were  a  feather's  weight ;  and 
tliough,  as  we  gained  the  top,  we  saw  the  wagons  of  our  deserted 
comrades  just  getting  into  motion,  we  had  little  fear  that  they 
could  o-vertake  us.  Leaving  the  trail,  we  struck  directly  across 
the  country,  and  took  the  shortest  cut  to  reach  the  main  stream 
of  the  Platte.  A  deep  ravine  suddenly  intercepted  us.  We 
skirted  its  sides  until  we  found  them  less  abrupt,  and  then 
plunged  through  the  best  way  we  could.  Passing  behind  the 
sandy  ravines  called  '  Ash  Hollow,'  we  stopped  for  a  short 
nooning  at  the  side  of  a  pool  of  rain-water ;  but  soon  resumed 
our  journey,  and  some  hours  before  sunset  were  descending  the 
ravines  and  gorges  opening  downward  upon  the  Platte  to  the 
west  of  Ash  HoUow.  Our  horses  waded  to  the  fetlock  in  sand  ; 
the  sun  scorched  like  fire,  and  the  air  swarmed  with  sand-flies 
and  musquiloes. 

At  last  we  gained  the  Platte.  Following  it  for  about  five 
miles,  we  saw,  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking,  a  great  meadow, 
dotted  with  hundreds  of  cattle,  and  beyond  them  an  emigrant 
encampment.  A  party  of  about  a  dozen  came  out  to  meet  us, 
looking  upon  us  at  first  with  cold  and  suspicious  faces.  Seeing 
four  men,  different  in  appearance  and  equipment  from  them- 
selves, emerging  from  the  hills,  they  had  taken  us  for  the  van  of 
the  much-dreaded  Mormons,  whom  they  were  very  apprehensive 
of  encountering.  We  made  known  our  true  character,  and 
then  they  greeted  us  cordially.  They  expressed  much  surprise 
that  so  small  a  party  should  venture  to  traverse  that  region, 
though  in   fact  such  attempts  are  not  unfrequently  made  by 


TAKING    FRENCH    LEAVE.  113 

trappers  and  Indian  traders.  We  rode  with  them  to  their 
camp.  The  wagons,  some  fifty  in  number,  with  here  and  there 
a  tent  intervening,  were  arranged  as  usual  in  a  circle ;  in  the 
area  within  the  best  horses  were  picketed,  and  the  whole 
circumference  was  glowing  with  the  dusky  light  of  the  fires, 
displaying  the  forms  of  the  women  and  children  who  were 
crowded  around  them.  This  patriarchal  scene  was  curious  and 
striking  enough  ;  but  we  made  our  escape  from  the  place  with 
all  possible  dispatch,  being  tormented  by  the  intrusive  curiosity 
of  the  men,  who  crowded  around  us.  Yankee  curiosity  was 
nothing  to  theirs.  They  demanded  our  names,  where  we  came 
from,  where  we  were  going,  and  what  was  our  business.  The 
last  query  was  particularly  embarrassing ;  since  travelling  in 
that  country,  or  indeed  any  where,  from  any  other  motive  than 
gain,  was  an  idea  of  which  they  took  no  cognizance.  Yet  they 
were  fine-looking  fellows,  with  an  air  of  frankness,  generosity, 
and  even  courtesy,  having  come  from  one  of  the  least  barbarous 
of  the  frontier  counties. 

We  passed  about  a  mile  beyond  them,  and  encamped.  Being 
too  few  in  number  to  stand  guard  without  excessive  fatigue,  we 
extinguished  our  fire,  lest  it  should  attract  the  notice  of  wandering 
Indians ;  and  picketing  our  horses  close  around  us,  slept  undis- 
turbed till  morning.  For  three  days  we  travelled  without 
interruption,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  third  encamped  by  the 
well-known  spring  on  Scott's  Bluff*. 

Henry  Chatillon  and  I  rode  out  in  the  morning,  and 
descending  the  western  side  of  the  Bluff",  were  crossing  the 
j)lain  beyond.  Something  that  seemed  to  me  a  file  of  buflfalo 
came  into  view,  descending  the  hills  several  miles  before  us. 
But  Henry  reined  in  his  horse,  and  keenly  peering  across  the 


114  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

prairie  witli  a  better  and  more  practised  eye,  soon  discovered 
its  real  nature.  •  Indians  !'  he  said.  '  Old  Smoke's  lodges,  I 
b'lieve.  Come  !  let  us  go  !  Wah  !  get  up,  now,  "  Five  Hun- 
dred Dollar  !"  '  And  laying  on  the  lash  with  good  will,  he 
galloped  forward,  and  I  rode  by  his  side.  Not  long  after,  a 
black  speck  became  visible  on  the  prairie,  full  two  miles  off. 
It  grew  larger  and  larger ;  it  assumed  the  form  of  a  man  and 
horse  ;  and  soon  we  could  discern  a  naked  Indian,  careering  at 
full  gallop  toward  us.  When  within  a  furlong  he  wheeled  his 
horse  in  a  wide  circle,  and  made  him  describe  various  myistic 
figures  upon  the  prairie  ',  and  Henry  immediately  compelled 
'  Five  Hundred  Dollar'  to  execute  similar  evolutions.  '  It  is 
Old  Smoke's  village,'  said  he,  interpreting  these  signals  ;  '  didn't 
I  say  so  V 

As  the  Indian  approached  we  stopped  to  wait  for  him,  when 
suddenly  he  vanished,  sinking,  as  it  were,  into  the  earth.  He 
had  come  upon  one  of  the  deep  ravines  that  every  where  inter- 
sect these  prairies.  In  an  instant  the  rough  head  of  his  horse 
stretched  upward  from  the  edge,  and  the  rider  and  steed  came 
scrambling  out,  and  bounded  up  to  us ;  a  sudden  jerk  of  the 
rein  brought  the  wild  panting  horse  to  a  full  stop.  Then 
followed  the  needful  formality  of  shaking  hands.  I  forget  our 
visitor's  name.  He  was  a  young  fellow,  of  no  note  in  his  nation  ; 
yet  in  his  person  and  equipments  he  was  a  good  specimen  of  a 
Dahcotah  warrior  in  his  ordinary  travelling  dress.  Like  most 
of  his  people,  he  was  nearly  six  feet  high  ;  lithely  and  gracefully, 
yet  strongly  proportioned ;  and  with  a  skin  singularly  clear 
and  delicate.  He  wore  no  paint ;  his  head  was  bare  ;  and  his 
long  hair  was  gathered  in  a  clump  behind,  to  the  top  of  which 
Was  attached  transversely,  both  by  way  of  ornament  and  of 


TAKING  FRENCH  LEAVE.  115 

talisman,  the  mystic  whistle,  made  of  the  wing-bone  of  the  war- 
eagle,  and  endowed  with  various  magic  virtues.  From  the 
back  of  his  head  descended  a  line  of  glittering  brass  plates, 
tapering  from  the  size  of  a  doubloon  to  that  of  a  half  dime,  a 
cumbrous  ornament,  in  high  vogue  among  the  Dahcotahs,  and  for 
which  they  pay  the  traders  a  most  extravagant  price ;  his  chest 
and  arms  were  naked,  the  buffalo  robe,  worn  over  them  when  at 
rest,  had  fallen  about  his  waist,  and  was  confined  there  by  a 
belt.  This,  with  the  gay  moccasons  on  his  feet,  completed  his 
attire.  For  arms  he  carried  a  quiver  of  dog-skin  at  his  back, 
and  a  rude  but  powerful  bow  in  his  hand.  His  horse  had  no 
Dridle  ;  a  cord  of  hair,  lashed  around  his  jaw,  served  in  place  of 
one.  The  saddle  was  of  most  singular  construction ;  it  was 
made  of  wood  covered  with  raw  hide,  and  both  pommel  and 
cantle  rose  perpendicularly  full  eighteen  inches,  so  that  the 
warrior  was  wedged  firmly  in  his  seat,  whence  nothing  could 
dislodge  him  but  the  bursting  of  the  girths. 

Advancing  with  our  new  companion,  we  found  more  of  his 
people,  seated  in  a  circle  on  the  top  of  a  hill ;  while  a  rude 
procession  came  straggling  down  the  neighboring  hollow,  men, 
women,  and  children,  with  horses  dragging  the  lodge-poles 
behind  them.  All  that  morning,  as  we  moved  forward,  tall 
savages  were  stalking  silently  about  us.  At  noon,  we  reached 
Horse  Creek  ;  and  as  we  waded  through  the  shallow  water, 
we  saw  a  wild  and  striking  scene.  The  main  body  of  the 
Indians  had  arrived  before  us.  On  the  farther  bank,  stood  a 
large  and  strong  man,  nearly  naked,  holding  a  white  horse  by 
a  long  cord  and  eyeing  us  as  we  approached.  This  was  the 
chief,  whom  Henry  called  '  Old  Smoke.'  Just  behind  him, 
his  youngest  and  favorite  squaw  sat  astride  of  a  fine  mule  :  it 


116  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

was  covered  with  caparisons  of  whitened  skins,  garnished  with 
blue  and  white  beads,  and  fringed  with  little  ornaments  of 
metal  that  tinkled  with  every  movement  of  the  animal.  The 
girl  had  a  light  clear  complexion,  enlivened  by  a  spot  of  ver- 
milion on  each  cheek  ;  she  smiled,  not  to  say  grinned,  upon 
us,  showing  two  gleaming  rows  of  white  teeth.  In  her  hand, 
she  carried  the  tall  lance  of  her  unchivalrous  lord,  fluttering 
with  feathers ;  his  round  white  shield  hung  at  the  side  of  her 
mule  ;  and  his  pipe  was  slung  at  her  back.  Her  dress  was  a 
tunic  of  deer-skin,  made  beautifully  white  by  means  of  a 
species  of  clay  found  on  the  prairie,  and  ornamented  with 
beads,  arrayed  in  figures  more  gay  than  tasteful,  and  with  long 
fringes  at  all  the  seams.  Not  far  from  the  chief,  stood  a  group 
of  stately  figures,  their  white  buffalo  robes  thrown  over  their 
shoulders,  gazing  coldly  upon  us  ;  and  in  the  rear,  for  several 
acres,  the  ground  was  covered  with  a  temporary  encampment  ; 
men,  women,  and  children  swarmed  like  bees;  hundreds  of 
dogs,  of  all  sizes  and  colors,  ran  restlessly  about ;  and  close  at 
hand,  the  wide  shallow  stream  was  alive  with  boys,  girls  and 
young  squaws,  splashing,  screaming,  and  laughing  in  the 
water.  At  the  same  time  a  long  train  of  emigrant  wagons 
were  crossing  the  creek,  and  dragging  on  in  their  slow,  heavy 
procession,  passed  the  encampment  of  the  people  whom  they 
and  their  descendants,  in  the  space  of  a  century,  are  to  sweep 
from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

The  encampment  itself  was  merely  a  temporary  one  during 
the  heat  of  the  day.  None  of  the  lodges  were  erected ;  but 
their  heavy  leather  coverings,  and  the  long  poles  used  to  support 
them,  were  scattered  every  where  around,  among  weapons, 
domestic  utensils,  and  the  rude  harness  of  mules  and  horses> 


TAKING    FRENCH    LEAVE. 


117 


The  squaws  of  each  lazy  warrior  had  made  him  a  shelter  from 
the  sun,  by  stretching  a  few  bufialo-robes,  or  the  corner  of  a 
lodge-covering  upon  poles ;  and  here  he  sat  in  the  shade,  with 
a  favorite  young  squaw,  perhaps,  at  his  side,  glittering  with  all 
imaginable  trinkets.  Before  him  stood  the  insignia  of  his 
rank,  as  a  warrior,  his  white  shield  of  bull-hide,  his  medicine 
bag,  his  bow  and  quiver,  his  lance  and  his  pipe,  raised  aloft  on 
a  tripod  of  three  poles.  Except  the  dogs,  the  most  active  and 
noisy  tenants  of  the  camp  were  the  old  women,  ugly  as  Mac- 
beth's  witches,  with  their  hair  streaming  loose  in  the  wind,  and 
nothing  but  the  tattered  fragment  of  an  old  buffalo-robe  to  hide 
their  shrivelled  wiry  limbs.  The  day  of  their  favoritism  passed 
two  generations  ago ;  now  the  heaviest  labors  of  the  camp  de- 
volved upon  them  ;  they  were  to  harness  the  horses,  pitch 
the  lodges,  dress  the  buffalo-robes,  and  bring  in  meat  for  the 
hunters.  With  the  cracked  voices  of  these  hags,  the  clamor 
of  dogs,  the  shouting  and  laughing  of  children  and  girls,  and 
the  listless  tranquillity  of  the  warriors,  the  whole  scene  had  an 
effect  too  lively  and  picturesque  ever  to  be  forgotten. 

We  stopped  not  far  from  the  Indian  camp,  and  having  in- 
vited some  of  the  cJiiefs  and  warriors  to  dinner,  placed  before 
then  a  sumptuous  repast  of  biscuit  and  coffee.  Squatted  in  a 
half  circle  on  the  ground,  they  soon  disposed  of  it.  As  we 
rode  forward  on  the  afternoon  journey,  several  of  our  late 
guests  accompanied  us.  Among  the  rest  was  a  huge  bloated 
savage,  of  more  than  three  hundred  pounds,  weight,  christened 
Le  Cochon,  in  consideration  of  his  preposterous  dimensions, 
and  certain  corresponding  traits  of  his  character.  '  The  Hog' 
bestrode  a  little  white  pony,  scarce  able  to  bear  up  under  the 
enormous  burden,  though,  by  way  of  keeping  up  the  necessary 


118 


THE    CALIFORMA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


Stimulus,  tlie  rider  kept  both  feet  in  constant  motion,  playing 
alternately  against  his  ribs.  The  old  man  was  not  a  chief; 
he  never  had  ambition  enough  to  become  one  ;  he  was  not  a 
warrior  nor  a  hunter,  for  he  was  too  iat  arid  lazy ;  but  he  was 
the  richest  man  in  the  whole  village.  Riches  among  the  Dah- 
cotahs  consist  in  horses,  and  of  these  '  The  Hog'  had  accumu- 
lated more  than  thirty.  He  had  already  ten  times  as  many 
as  he  wanted,  yet  still  his  appetite  for  horses  was  insatiable. 
Trotting  up  to  me,  he  shook  me  by  the  hand,  and  gave  me  to 
understand  that  he  was  a  very  devoted  friend  ;  and  then  he 
began  a  series  of  most  earnest  signs  and  gesticulations,  his  oily 
countenance  radiant  with  smiles,  and  his  little  eyes  peeping 
out  with  a  cunning  twinkle  from  between  the  masses  of  flesh 
that  almost  obscured  them.  Knowing  nothing  at  that  time  of 
the  sign-language  of  the  Indians,  I  could  only  guess  at  his 
meaning.     So  1  called  on  Henry  to  explain  it. 

*  The  Hog,'  it  seems,  was  anxious  to  conclude  a  matrimo- 
nial bargain.  He  said  he  had  a  very  pretty  daughter  in  his 
lodge,  whom  he  would  give  me,  if  I  would  give  him  my  horse. 
These  flattering  overtures  I  chose  to  reject ;  at  which  '  The 
Hog,'  still  laughing  with  undiminished  good  humor,  gathered 
his  robe  about  his  shoulders,  and  rode  away. 

Where  we  encamped  that  night,  an  arm  of  the  Platte  ran 
between  high  bluffs ;  it  was  turbid  and  swift  as  heretofore,  but 
trees  were  growing  on  its  crumbling  banks,  and  there  was  a 
nook  of  grass  between  the  water  and  the  hill.  Just  before 
entering  this  place,  we  saw  the  emigrants  encamping  at  two  or 
three  miles'  distance  on  the  right ;  while  the  whole  Indian  rabble 
were  pouring  down  the  neighboring  hill  in  hope  of  the  same 
sort  of  entertainment  which  they  had  experienced  from  us.     In 


TAKING    FRENCH    LEAVE.  119 

the  savage  landscape  before  our  camp,  nothing  but  the  rushing 
of  the  Platte  broke  the  silence.  Through  the  ragged  boughs 
of  the  trees,  dilapidated  and  half  dead,  we  saw  the  sun  setting 
in  crimson  behind  the  peaks  of  the  Black  Hills;  the  restless 
bosom  of  the  river  was  suffused  with  red  ;  our  white  tent  was 
tinged  with  it,  and  the  sterile  bluffs,  up  to  the  rocks  that  crowned 
them,  partook  of  the  same  fiery  hue.  It  soon  passed  away  ;  no 
light  remained,  but  that  from  our  fire,  blazing  high  among  tiie 
dusky  trees  and  bushes.  We  lay  around  it  wrapped  in  our 
blankets,  smoking  and  conversing  until  a  late  hour,  and  then 
withdrew  to  our  tent. 

We  crossed  a  sun-scorched  plain  on  the  next  morning ;  the 
line  of  old  cotton-wood  trees  that  fringed  the  bank  of  the  Platte 
forming  its  extreme  verge.  Nestled  apparently  close  beneath 
them,  we  could  discern  in  the  distance  something  like  a  build- 
ing. As  we  came  nearer,  it  assumed  form  and  dimensions,  and 
proved  to  be  a  rough  structure  of  logs.  It  was  a  little  trading 
fort,  belonging  to  two  private  traders ;  and  originally  intended, 
like  all  the  forts  of  the  country,  to  form  a  hollow  square,  with 
rooms  for  lodging  and  storage  opening  upon  the  area  within. 
Only  two  sides  of  it  had  been  completed  ;  the  place  was  now 
as  ill-fitted  for  the  purposes  of  defence  as  any  of  those  little 
log-houses,  which  upon  our  constantly-shifting  fi'ontier  have 
been  so  often  successfully  maintained  against  overwhelming 
odds  of  Indians.  Two  lodges  were  pitched  close  to  the  fort ; 
the  sun  beat  scorching  upon  the  logs  ;  no  living  thing  was  stir- 
ring except  one  old  squaw,  who  thrust  her  round  head  from  the 
opening  of  the  nearest  lodge,  and  three  or  four  stout  young 
pups,  who  were  peeping  with  looks  of  eager  inquiry  from  under 
the  covering.     In  a  moment  a  door  opened,  and  a  little,  swarthy 


120 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OKEGON    TRAIL. 


black-eyed  Frenchman  came  out.  His  dress  was  rather  singu- 
lar ;  his  black  curling  hair  was  parted  in  the  middle  of  his 
head,  and  fell  below  his  shoulders ;  he  wore  a  tight  frock  of 
smoked  deer-skin,  very  gayly  ornamented  with  figures  worked 
in  dyed  porcupine-quills.  His  moccasons  and  leggins  were  also 
gaudily  adorned  in  the  same  manner;  and  the  latter  had  in 
addition  a  line  of  long  fringes,  reaching  down  the  seams.  The 
small  frame  of  Richard,  for  by  this  name  Henry  made  him 
known  to  us,  was  in  the  highest  degree  athletic  and  vigorous. 
There  was  no  superfluity,  and  indeed  there  seldom  is  among 
the  active  white  men  of  this  country,  but  every  limb  was  com- 
pact and  hard  ;  every  sinew  had  its  full  tone  and  elasticity,  and 
the  whole  man  wore  an  air  of  mingled  hardihood  and  buoy- 
ancy. 

Richard  committed  our  horses  to  a  Navaho  slave,  a  mean- 
looking  fellow,  taken  prisoner  on  the  Mexican  frontier ;  and 
relieving  us  of  our  rifles  with  ready  politeness,  led  the  way  into 
the  principal  apartment  of  his  establishment.  This  was  a  room 
ten  feet  square.  The  walls  and  floor  were  of  black  mud,  and 
the  roof  of  rough  timber ;  there  was  a  huge  fireplace  made 
of  four  flat  rocks,  picked  up  on  the  prairie.  An  Indian  bow 
and  otter-skin  quiver,  several  gaudy  articles  of  Rocky  Mountain 
finery,  an  Indian  medicine-bag,  and  a  pipe  and  tobacco-pouch, 
garnished  the  walls,  and  rifles  rested  in  a  corner.  There  was 
no  furniture  except  a  sort  of  rough  settle,  covered  with  buffalo- 
robes,  upon  which  lolled  a  tall  half-breed,  with  liis  hair  glued 
in  masses  upon  each  teniple,  and  saturated  with  vermilion. 
Two  or  three  more  '  mountain  men '  sat  cross-legged  on  the 
floor.  Their  attire  was  not  unlike  that  of  Richard  himself; 
but  the  most  striking  figure  of  the  group  was  a  naked  Indian 


^\ 


TAKING    FRENCH    LEAVE.  121 

boy  of  sixteen,  with  a  handsome  face,  and  light,  active  propor- 
tions,  who  sat  in  an  easy  posture  in  the  corner  near  tiie  door. 
Not  one  of  liis  limbs  moved  the  breadth  of  a  hair ;  his  eye  was 
fixed  immovably,  not  on  any  person  present,  but,  as  it  appeared, 
on  the  projecting  corner  of  the  fireplace  opposite  to  him. 

On  those  prairies  the  custom  of  smoking  with  friends  is  sel- 
dom omitted,  whether  among  Indians  or  whites.  The  pipe, 
therefore,  was  taken  from  tlie  wall,  and  its  great  red  bowl 
crammed  witli  the  tobacco  and  slwngsaslia,  mixed  in  suitable 
proportions.  Then  it  passed  round  the  circle,  each  man  inhal- 
ing a  few  wiiifTs  and  handing  it  to  his  neighbor.  Having  spent 
half  an  hour  here,  we  took  our  leave  ;  first  inviting  our  new 
friends  to  drink  a  cup  of  coffee  with  us  at  our  camp  a  mile 
farther  up  the  river. 

By  this  time,  as  the  reader  may  conceive,  we  had  grown 
rather  shabby  ;  our  clothes  had  burst  into  rags  and  tatters ;  and 
what  was  worse,  we  had  very  little  means  of  renovation.  Fort 
Laramie  was  but  seven  miles  before  us.  Being  totally  averse 
to  appearing  in  such  a  plight  among  any  society  that  could 
boast  an  approximation  to  the  civilized,  we  soon  stopped  by  the 
river  to  make  our  toilet  in  the  best  way  we  could.  We  hung 
up  small  looking-glasses  against  the  trees  and  shaved,  an  oper- 
ation  neglected  for  six  weeks  ;  we  performed  our  ablutions  in 
the  Platte,  though  the  utility  of  such  a  proceeding  was  question- 
able, the  water  looking  exactly  like  a  cup  of  chocolate,  and  the 
banks  consisting  of  the  softest  and  richest  yellow  mud,  so  that 
we  were  obliged,  as  a  preliminary,  to  build  a  causeway  of  stout 
branches  and  twigs.  Having  also  put  on  radiant  moccasons, 
procured  from  a  squaw  of  Richard's  establishment,  and  made 
what  other  improvements  our  narrow  circumstances  allowed. 


122 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 


we  took  our  scats  on  the  grass  with  a  feeling  of  greatly  in- 
creased respectability,  to  await  the  arrival  of  our  guests.  They 
came;  the  banquet  was  concluded,  and  the  pipe  smoked.  Bid- 
ding them  adieu,  we  turned  our  horses'  heads  toward  the  fort. 

An  hour  elapsed.  The  barren  hills  closed  across  our  front, 
and  we  could  see  no  farther ;  until  having  surmounted  them,  a 
rapid  stream  appeared  at  the  foot  of  the  descent,  running  into 
the  Platte ;  beyond  was  a  green  meadow,  dotted  with  bushes, 
and  in  the  midst  of  these,  at  the  point  where  the  two  rivers 
joined,  were  the  low  clay  walls  of  a  fort.  This  was  not  Fort 
Laramie,  but  another  post  of  less  recent  date,  which  having 
sunk  before  its  successful  competitor,  was  now  deserted  and 
ruinous.  A  moment  after,  the  hills  seeming  to  draw  apart  as 
We  advanced,  disclosed  Fort  Laramie  itself,  its  high  bastions 
and  perpendicular  walls  of  clay  crowning  an  eminence  on  the 
left  beyond  the  stream,,  while  behind  stretched  a  line  of  arid  and 
desolate  ridges,  and  behind  these  again,  towering  aloft  seven 
thousand  feet,  arose  the  grim  Black  Hills. 

We  tried  to  ford  Laramie  creek  at  a  point  nearly  opposite 
the  fort,  but  the  stream,  swollen  with  the  rains  in  the  mountains, 
was  too  rapid.  We  passed  up  along  its  bank  to  find  a  better 
crossing  place.  Men  gathered  on  the  wall  to  look  at  us. 
'  There's  Bordeaux  !'  called  Henry,  his  face  brightening  as  he 
recognized  his  acquaintance  ;  '  him  there  with  the  spy-glass ; 
and  there's  old  Vaskiss,  and  Tucker,  and  May ;  and  by 
George  !  there's  Cimoneau !'  This  Cimoneau  was  Henry's 
fast  friend,  and  the  only  man  '"n  the  country  vho  could  rival 
him  in  hunting. 

W^e  soon  found  a  ford.  Henry  led  the  way,  the  pony 
approaching  the  bank  with  a  countenance  of  cool  indifference, 


TAKING    FRENCH    LEAVE.  123 

bracing  his  feet  and  sliding  into  the  stream  with  the  most  un- 
moved composure : 

'  At  the  first  plunge  the  horse  sunk  low, 
And  the  water  broke  o'er  the  saddle-bow.' 

We  followed  j  the  water  boiled  against  our  saddles,  but 
our  horses  bore  us  easily  through.  The  unfortunate  little 
mules  came  near  going  down  with  the  current,  cart  and  all ; 
and  we  watched  them  with  some  solicitude  scrambling  over  the 
loose  round  stones  at  the  bottom,  and  bracing  stoutly  against 
the  stream.  All  landed  safely  at  last;  we  crossed  a  little 
plain,  descended  a  hollow,  and  riding  up  a  steep  bank,  found 
ourselves  before  the  gateway  of  Fort  Laramie,  under  the  im- 
pending blockhouse  erected  above  it  to  defend  the  entrance. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SCENES     AT     FORT     LARAMIE. 

"  'Tis  trne  they  are  a  alwless  brood, 
Bat  roDgb  in  form,  normildin  mood." 

The  Bride  op  Abydos. 

Looking  back,  after  the  expiration  of  a  year,  upon  Fort 
Laramie  and  its  inmates,  they  seem  less  Hive  a  reality  than 
like  some  fanciful  picture  of  the  olden  time  ;  so  different  was 
tne  scene  from  any  which  this  tamer  side  of  the  world  can 
present.  Tall  Indians,  enveloped  in  their  white  buffalo-robes, 
were  striding  across  the  area  or  reclining  at  full  length  on  the 
low  roofs  of  the  buildings  which  inclosed  it.  Numerous 
squaws,  gayly  bedizened,  sat  grouped  in  front  of  the  apart- 
ments they  occupied  ;  their  mongrel  offspring,  restless  and 
vociferous,  rambled  in  every  direction  through  the  fort ;  and 
the  trappers,  traders  and  engages  of  the  establishment  were 
busy  at  their  labor  or  their  amusements. 

We  were  met  at  the  gate,  but  by  no  means  cordially  wel- 
comed. Indeed,  we  seemed  objects  of  some  distrust  and  sus- 
picion, until  Henry  Chatillon  explained  that  we  were  not 
traders,  and  we,  in  confirmation,  handed  to  the  bourgeois  a 
letter  of  introduction  from  his  principals.     He  took,  it,  turned 


SCENES    AT    FOKT    LAKAMIE.  125 

it  upside  down,  and  tried  hard  to  read  it ;  but  his  literary 
attainments  not  being  adequate  to  tlie  task,  he  applied  for  re- 
lief to  the  clerk,  a  sleek,  smiling  Frenchman,  named  Montalon. 
The  letter  read,  Bordeaux  (the  bourgeois)  seemed  gradually 
to  awaken  to  a  sense  of  what  was  expected  of  him.  Though 
not  deficient  in  hospitable  intentions,  he  was  wholly  unaccus- 
tomed to  act  as  master  of  ceremonies.  Discarding  all  formali- 
ties of  reception,  he  did  not  honor  us  with  a  single  word,  but 
walked  swiftly  across  the  area,  while  we  followed  in  some  ad- 
miration to  a  railing  and  a  flight  of  steps  opposite  the  entrance. 
He  signed  to  us  that  we  had  better  fasten  our  horses  to  the 
railing  ;  then  he  walked  up  the  steps,  tramped  along  a  rude 
balcony,  and  kicking  open  a  door,  displayed  a  large  room, 
rather  more  elaborately  finished  than  a  barn.  For  furniture 
it  had  a  rough  bedstead,  but  no  bed  ;  two  chairs,  a  chest  of 
drawers,  a  tin  pail  to  hold  water,  and  a  board  to  cut  tobacco 
upon.  A  brass  crucifix  hung  on  the  wall,  and  close  at  hand  a 
recent  scalp,  with  hair  full  a  yard  long,  was  suspended  from 
a  nail.  I  shall  again  have  occasion  to  mention  this  dismal 
trophy,  its  history  being  connected  with  that  of  our  subsequent 
proceedings. 

This  apartment,  the  best  in  Fort  Laramie,  was  that  usually 
occupied  by  the  legitimate  bourgeois,  Papin  ;  in  whose  absence 
the  command  devolved  upon  Bordeaux.  The  latter,  a  stout, 
bluff"  little  fellow,  much  inflated  by  a  sense  of  his  new  autho- 
rity, began  to  roar  for  buffalo-robes.  These  being  brought  and 
spread  upon  the  floor,  formed  our  beds  ;  much  better  ones  than 
we  had  of  late  been  accustomed  to.  Our  arrangements  made, 
we  stepped  out  to  the  balcony  to  take  a  more  leisurely  survey 
of  the  lontT  looked-for  haven  at  which  we  had  arrived  at  last. 


120 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


Beneath  us  was  tlie  square  area  surrounded  by  little  rooms,  or 
rather  cells,  which  opened  upon  it.  These  were  devoted  to 
various  purposes,  but  served  chiefly  for  the  accommodation  of 
the  men  employed  at  the  fort,  or  of  the  equally  numerous 
squaws  whom  they  were  allowed  to  maintain  in  it.  Opposite 
to  us  rose  the  blockhouse  above  the  gateway  ;  it  was  adorned 
with  a  figure  which  even  now  haunts  my  memory  ;  a  horse  at 
full  speed,  daubed  upon  the  boards  with  red  paint,  and  exhib- 
iting a  degree  of  skill  which  might  rival  that  displayed  by  the 
Indians  in  executing  similar  designs  upon  their  robes  and 
lodges.  A  busy  scene  was  enacting  in  the  area.  The  wagons 
of  Vaskiss,  an  old  trader,  were  about  to  set  out  for  a  remote 
post  in  the  mountains,  and  the  Canadians  were  going  through 
their  preparations  with  all  possible  bustle,  wliile  here  and 
there  an  Indian  stood  looking  on  with  imperturbable  gravity. 

Fort  Laramie  is  one  of  the  posts  established  by  the  '  Ame- 
rican Fur  Company,'  who  well-nigh  monopolize  the  Indian 
trade  of  this  whole  region.  Here  their  officials  rule  with  an 
absolute  sway;  the  arm  of  tke  United  States  has  little  force; 
for  when  we  were  there,  the  extreme  outposts  of  her  troops 
were  about  seven  hundred  miles  to  tlie  eastward.  The  little 
fort  is  built  of  bricks  dried  in  the  sun,  and  externally  is  of  an 
oblong  form,  with  bastions  of  clay,  in  the  form  of  ordinary 
blockhouses,  at  two  of  the  corners.  The  walls  are  about 
fifteen  feet  high,  and  surmounted  by  a  slender  palisade.  The 
roofs  of  the  apartments  within,  which  are  built  close  against 
the  walls,  serve  the  purpose  of  a  banquette.  Within,  the  fort 
is  divided  by  a  partition  ;  on  one  side  is  the  square  area,  sur- 
rounded by  the  store-rooms,  offices,  and  apartments  of  the  in- 
mates ;  or.  the  other  is  the  corral,  a  narrow  place,  encompassed 


SCENES    AT    FORT    LARAMIE.  127 

by  the  high  clay  walls,  where  at  night,  or  in  presence  of  dan- 
gerous Indians,  the  horses  and  mules  of  the  fort  are  crowded 
for  safe  keeping.  The  main  entrance  has  two  gates,  with  an 
arched  passage  intervening.  A  little  square  window,  quite 
high  above  the  ground,  opens  laterally  from  an  adjoining 
chamber  into  this  passage ;  so  that  when  the  inner  gate  is 
closed  and  barred,  a  person  without  may  still  hold  communi- 
cation with  those  within,  through  this  narrow  aperture.  This 
obviates  the  necessity  of  admitting  suspicious  Indians,  for  pur- 
poses of  trading,  into  the  body  of  the  fort ;  for  when  danger 
is  apprehended,  the  inner  gate  is  shut  fast,  and  all  traffic  is 
carried  on  by  means  of  the  little  window.  This  precaution, 
though  highly  necessary  at  some  of  the  Company's  posts,  is  now 
seldom  resorted  to  at  Fort  Laramie ;  where,  though  men  are 
frequently  killed  in  its  neighborhood,  no  apprehensions  are  now 
entertained  of  any  general  designs  of  hostility  from  the  Indians. 
We  did  not  long  enjoy  our  new  quarters  undisturbed.  The 
door  was  silently  pushed  open,  and  two  eyeballs  and  a  visage 
as  black  as  night  looked  in  upon  us ;  then  a  red  arm  and 
shoulder  intruded  themselves,  and  a  tall  Indian,  gliding  in, 
shook  us  by  the  hand,  grunted  his  salutation,  and  sat  down  on 
the  floor.  Others  followed,  with  faces  of  the  natural  hue  ;  and 
letting  fall  their  heavy  robes  from  their  shoulders,  they  took 
their  seats,  quite  at  ease,  in  a  semicircle  before  us.  The  pipe 
was  now  to  be  lighted  and  passed  round  from  one  to  another; 
and  this  was  the  only  entertainment  that  at  present  they  expected 
from  us.  These  visitors  were  fathers,  brothers,  or  other  rela- 
tives of  the  squaws  in  the  fort,  where  they  were  permitted  to 
remain,  loitering  about  in  perfect  idleness.  All  those  who 
smoked  with  us  were  men  of  standing  and  repute.     Two  or  three 


128  THE    CALIFORNIA    i  ND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

Others  dropped  in  also ;  young  fellows  who  neither  by  their 
years  nor  their  exploits  were  entitled  to  rank  with  the  old  men 
and  warriors,  and  who,  abashed  in  the  presence  of  their  supe- 
riors, stood  aloof,  never  withdrawing  their  eyes  from  us.  Their 
cheeks  were  adorned  with  vermilion,  their  ears  with  pendants 
of  shell,  and  their  necks  with  beads.  Never  yet  having  signal- 
ized themselves  as  hunters,  or  performed  the  honorable  exploit 
of  killing  a  man,  they  were  held  in  slight  esteem,  and  were 
diffident  and  bashful  in  proportion.  Certain  formidable  incon- 
veniences attended  this  influx  of  visitors.  They  were  bent  on 
inspecting  every  thing  in  the  room  ;  our  equipments  and  our 
dress  alike  underwent  their  scrutiny  ;  for  though  the  contrary 
has  been  carelessly  asserted,  few  beings  have  more  curiosity 
than  Indians  in  regard  to  subjects  within  their  ordinary  range 
of  thought.  As  to  other  matters,  indeed,  they  seem  utterly 
indifferent.  They  will  not  trouble  themselves  to  inquire  into 
what  they  cannot  comprehend,  but  are  quite  contented  to  place 
their  hands  over  their  mouths  in  token  of  wonder,  and  exclaim 
that  it  is  *  great  medicine.'  With  this  comprehensive  solution, 
an  Indian  never  is  at  a  loss.  He  never  launches  forth  into 
speculation  and  conjecture  ;  his  reason  moves  in  its  beaten 
track.  His  soul  is  dormant ;  and  no  exertions  of  the  missionaries, 
Jesuit  or  Puritan,  of  the  old  world  or  of  the  new,  have  as  yet 
availed  to  rouse  it. 

As  we  were  looking,  at  sunset,  from  the  wall,  upon  the  wild 
and  desolate  plains  that  surround  the  fort,  we  observed  a  cluster 
of  strange  objects,  like  scaffolds,  rising  in  the  distance  against 
the  red  western  sky.  They  bore  aloft  some  singular-looking 
burdens ;  and  at  their  foot  glimmered  something  white  like 
bones.     This  was  the  place  of  sepulture  of  some  Dahcotab 


SCENES   AT   FORT    LARAMIE.  129 

chiefs,  whose  remains  their  people  are  fond  of  placing  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  fort,  in  the  hope  that  they  may  thus  be  protected 
from  violation  at  the  hands  of  their  enemies.  Yet  it  has  hap- 
pened more  than  once,  and  quite  recently,  that  war  parties  of 
the  Crow  Indians,  ranging  through  the  country,  have  thrown 
the  bodies  from  the  scaffolds,  and  broken  them  to  pieces,  amid 
the  yells  of  the  Dahcotahs,  who  remained  pent  up  in  the  fort, 
too  few  to  defend  the  honored  relics  from  insult.  The  white 
objects  upon  the  ground  were  buffalo-skulls,  arranged  in  the 
mystic  circle,  commonly  seen  at  Indian  places  of  sepulture 
upon  the  prairie. 

We  soon  discovered,  in  the  twilight,  a  band  of  fifty  or  sixty 
horses  approaching  the  fort.  These  were  the  animals  belonging 
to  the  establishment ;  who  having  been  sent  out  to  feed,  under 
the  care  of  armed  guards,  in  the  meadows  below,  were  now 
being  driven  into  the  corral  for  the  night.  A  little  gate  opened 
into  this  inclosure :  by  the  side  of  it  stood  one  of  the  guards,  an 
old  Canadian,  with  gray  bushy  eyebrows,  and  a  dragoon-pistol 
stuck  into  his  belt ;  while  his  comrade,  mounted  on  horseback, 
his  rifle  laid  across  the  saddle  in  front  of  him,  and  his  long  hair 
blowing  before  his  swarthy  face,  rode  at  the  rear  of  the  disor- 
derly troop,  urging  them  up  the  ascent.  In  a  moment  the 
narrow  corral  was  thronged  with  the  half-wild  horses,  kicking, 
biting,  und  crowding  restlessly  together. 

The  discordant  jingling  of  a  bell,  rung  by  a  Canadian  in  the 
area,  summoned  us  to  supper.  This  sumptuous  repast  was 
served  on  a  rough  table  in  one  of  the  lower  apartments  of  the 
fort,  and  consisted  of  cakes  of  bread  and  dried  buffalo  meat  — 
an  excellent  thing  for  strengthening  the  teeth.  At  this  meal 
were  seated  the  bourgeois  and  superior  dignitaries  of  the  estab- 


130  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OIUCGON    TRAIL. 

lislimoiit,  among  n\  hum  Ilcnry  Chatillon  was  worlliily  included. 
No  sooner  was  it  finished,  than  the  table  was  spread  a  second 
time,  (the  luxury  of  bread  being  now,  however,  omitted,)  for 
the  benefit  of  certain  hunters  and  trappersof  an  inferior  standing; 
while  the  ordinary  Canadian  engages  were  regaled  on  dried 
meat  in  one  of  their  lodging  rooms.  By  way  of  illustrating  the 
domestic  economy  of  Fort  Laramie,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
introduce  in  this  place  a  story  current  among  the  men  when  we 
were  there. 

Tliere  was  an  old  man  named  Pierre,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
bring  the  moat  from  the  store-room  for  the  men.  Old  Pierre, 
in  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  used  to  select  the  fattest  and  the 
best  pieces  for  his  companions.  This  did  not  long  escape  the 
keen-eyed  bourgeois,  who  was  greatly  disturbed  at  such  im- 
providence, and  cast  about  for  some  means  to  stop  it.  At  last 
he  hit  on  a  plan  that  exactly  suited  him.  At  the  side  of  the 
meat-room,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  clay  partition,  was 
another  apartment,  used  for  the  storage  of  furs.  It  had  no  , 
other  communication  with  the  fort,  except  through  a  square 
hole  in  the  partition  ;  and  of  course  it  was  perfectly  dark.  One 
evening  the  bourgeois,  watching  for  a  moment  when  no  one 
observed  him,  dodged  into  the  meat-room,  clambered  through 
the  hole,  and  ensconced  himself  among  the  furs  and  bufialo- 
robes.  Soon  after,  old  Pierre  came  in  with  his  lantern ;  and, 
muttering  to  himself,  began  to  pull  over  the  bales  of  meat,  and 
select  the  best  pieces,  as  usual.  But  suddenly  a  hollow 
and  sepulchral  voice  proceeded  from  the  inner  apartment : — 
•  Pierre  !  Pierre  !  Let  that  fat  meat  alone  !  Take  nothing  but 
lean !'  Pierre  dropped  his  lantern,  and  bolted  out  into  the 
fort,  screaming,  in  an  agony  of  terror,  that  the  devil  was  in  the 


SCENES   AT   FORT   LARAMIE.  131 

store-room  ;  but  tripping  on  the  threshold,  he  pitched  over  upon 
the  gravel,  and  lay  senseless,  stunned  by  the  fall.  The  Cana- 
dians ran  out  to  the  rescue.  Some  lifted  the  unlucky  Pierre  ; 
and  others,  making  an  extempore  crucifix  out  of  two  sticks, 
were  proceeding  to  attack  the  devil  in  his  strong-hold,  when  the 
bourgeois,  with  a  crest-fallen  countenance,  appeared  at  the  door. 
To  add  to  the  bourgeoises  mortification,  he  was  obliged  to  ex- 
plain the  whole  stratagem  to  Pierre,  in  order  to  bring  the  latter 
to  his  senses. 

We  were  sitting,  on  the  following  morning,  in  the  passage- 
way between  the  gates,  conversing  with  the  traders  Vaskiss  and 
May.  These  two  men,  together  with  our  sleek  friend,  the  clerk 
Montalon,  were,  I  believe,  the  only  persons  then  in  the  fort  who 
could  read  and  write.  May  was  telling  a  curious  story  about 
the  traveller  Catlin,  when  an  ugly,  diminutive  Indian,  wretch- 
edly mounted,  came  up  at  a  gallop,  and  rode  past  us  into  the 
fort.  On  being  questioned,  he  said  that  Smoke's  village  was 
close  at  hand.  Accordingly  only  a  few  minutes  elapsed  before 
the  hills  beyond  the  river  were  covered  with  a  disorderly  swarm 
of  savages,  on  horseback  and  on  foot.  May  finished  his  story ; 
and  by  that  time  the  whole  array  had  descended  to  Laramie 
Creek,  and  commenced  crossing  it  in  a  mass.  I  walked  down 
to  the  bank.  The  stream  is  wide,  and  was  then  between  three 
and  four  feet  deep,  with  a  very  swift  current.  For  several  rods 
the  water  was  alive  with  dogs,  horses,  and  Indians.  The  long 
poles  used  in  erecting  the  lodges  are  carried  by  tlie  liorses,  being 
fastened  by  the  heavier  end,  two  or  three  on  each  side,  to  a  rude 
sort  of  pack-saddle,  while  the  other  end  drags  on  the  ground, 
About  a  foot  behind  the  horse,  a  kind  of  large  basket  or  pan- 
nier is  suspended  between  the  poles,  and  firmly  lashed  in  its 


182  THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

place.  On  the  back  of  the  liorse  are  piled  various  articles  of 
luggage  ;  the  basket  also  is  well  filled  with  domestic  utensils, 
or,  quite  as  often,  with  a  litter  of  puppies,  a  brood  of  small 
children,  or  a  superannuated  old  man.  Numbers  of  these  cu- 
rious vehicles,  called,  in  the  bastard  language  of  the  country, 
iravaux,  were  now  splashing  togetlier  through  the  stream. 
Among  them  swam  countless  dogs,  often  burdened  with  minia- 
ture iravaux ;  and  dashing  forward  on  horseback  through  the 
throng  came  the  superbly- formed  warriors,  the  slender  figure 
of  some  lynx-eyed  boy  clinging  fast  behind  them.  The  women 
sat  perched  on  the  pack-saddles,  adding  not  a  little  to  the  load 
of  the  already  overburdened  horses.  The  confusion  was  pro- 
digious. The  dogs  yelled  and  howled  in  chorus ;  the  puppies 
in  the  travaux  set  up  a  dismal  whine  as  the  water  invaded  their 
comfortable  retreat;  the  little  black-eyed  children,  from  one 
year  of  age  upward,  clung  fast  with  both  hands  to  the  edge  of 
their  basket,  and  looked  over  in  alarm  at  the  water  rushing  so 
near  them,  sputtering  and  making  wry  mouths  as  it  splashed 
against  their  faces.  Some  of  the  dogs,  encumbered  by  their 
load,  were  carried  down  by  the  current,  yelping  piteously  ;  and 
the  old  squaws  would  rush  into  the  water,  seize  their  favorites 
by  the  neck,  and  drag  them  out.  As  each  horse  gained  the 
bank,  he  scrambled  up  as  he  could.  Stray  horses  and  colts 
came  among  the  rest,  often  breaking  away  at  full  speed  through 
the  crowd,  followed  by  the  old  hags,  screaming,  after  their  fash- 
ion, on  all  occasions  of  excitement.  Buxom  young  squaws, 
blooming  in  all  the  charms  of  vermilion,  stood  here  and  there 
on  the  bank,  holding  aloft  their  master's  lance,  as  a  signal  to 
collect  the  scattered  portions  of  his  household.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments the  crowd  melted  away ;  each  family,  with  its  horses 


SCENES   AT    FORT    LARAMIE.  133 

and  equipage,  filing  ofF  to  the  plain  at  the  rear  of  the  fort ;  and 
here,  in  the  space  of  half  an  hour,  arose  sixty  or  seventy  of 
their  tapering  lodges.  Their  horses  were  feeding  by  hundreds 
over  the  surrounding  prairie,  and  their  dogs  were  roaming  every 
where.  The  fort  was  full  of  men,  and  the  children  were  whoop- 
ing and  yelling  incessantly  under  the  walls. 

These  new-comers  were  scarcely  arrived,  when  Bordeaux 
was  running  across  the  fort,  shouting  to  his  squaw  to  bring  him 
his  spy-glass.  The  obedient  Marie,  the  very  model  of  a  squaw, 
produced  the  instrument,  and  Bordeaux  hurried  with  it  up  to 
the  wall.  Pointing  it  to  the  eastward,  he  exclaimed,  with  an 
oath,  that  the  families  were  coming.  But  a  few  moments 
elapsed  before  the  heavy  caravan  of  the  emigrant  wagons  could 
be  seen,  steadily  advancing  from  the  hills.  They  gained  the 
river,  and  without  turning  or  pausing  plunged  in  ;  they  passed 
through,  and  slowly  ascending  the  opposing  bank,  kept  directly 
on  their  way  past  the  fort  and  the  Indian  village,  until,  gaining 
a  spot  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  they  wheeled  into  a  circle. 
For  some  time  our  tranquillity  was  undisturbed.  The  emigrants 
were  preparing  their  encampment;  but  no  sooner  was  this 
accomplished,  than  Fort  Laramie  was  fairly  taken  by  storm. 
A  crowd  of  broad-brimmed  hats,  thin  visages,  and  staring  eyes, 
appeared  suddenly  at  the  gate.  Tall  awkward  men,  in  brown 
homespun  ;  women  with  cadaverous  faces  and  long  lank  figures, 
came  thronging  in  together,  and,  as  if  inspired  by  the  very 
demon  of  curiosity,  ransacked  every  nook  and  corner  of  the 
fort.  Dismayed  at  this  invasion,  we  withdrew  in  all  speed 
to  our  chamber,  vainly  hoping  that  it  might  prove  an  invi- 
olable sanctuary.  The  emigrants  prosecuted  their  investi- 
gations with  untiring  vigor.     They  penetrated  the  rooms,  or 


131 


THE  cai-:fornia  and  okegon  trail. 


rather  dens,  inhabited  by  the  astonished  squaws.  They  ex- 
plored the  apartments  of  the  jnen,  and  even  that  of  Marie  and 
the  bourgeois.  At  last  a  numerous  deputation  appeared  at  our 
door,  but  were  immediately  expelled.  Being  totally  devoid  of 
any  sense  of  delicacy  or  propriety,  they  seemed  resolved  to 
search  every  mystery  to  the  bottom. 

Having  at  length  satisfied  their  curiosity,  they  next  pro- 
ceeded to  business.  The  men  occupied  themselves  in  procuring 
supplies  for  their  onward  journey ;  either  buying  them  with 
money,  or  giving  in  exchange  superfluous  articles  of  their  own. 

The  emigrants  felt  a  violent  prejudice  against  the  French 
Indians,  as  they  called  the  trappers  and  traders.  They 
thought,  and  with  some  justice,  that  these  men  bore  them  no 
good  will.  Many  of  them  were  firmly  persuaded  that  the 
French  were  instigating  the  Indians  to  attack  and  cut  them  off. 
On  visiting  the  encampment  we  were  at  once  struck  with  the 
extraordinary  perplexity  and  indecision  that  prevailed  among 
the  emigrants.  They  seemed  like  men  totally  out  of  their 
element;  bewildered  and  amazed,  like  a  troop  of  schoolboys 
lost  in  the  woods.  It  was  impossible  to  be  long  among  them 
without  being  conscious  of  the  high  and  bold  spirit  with  which 
most  of  them  were  animated.  But  the  forest  is  the  home  of 
the  backwoodsman.  On  the  remote  prairie  he  is  totally  at  a 
loss.  He  differs  as  much  from  the  genuine  'mountain-man,' 
the  wild  prairie  hunter,  as  a  Canadian  voyageur,  paddling  his 
canoe  on  the  rapids  of  the  Ottawa,  differs  from  an  American 
sailor  among  the  storms  of  Cape  Horn.  Still  my  companion 
and  I  were  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  account  for  this  perturbed 
state  of  mind.  It  could  not  be  cowardice  :  these  men  were  of 
the  same  stock   with  the  volunteers  of  Monterey  and   Buena 


SCENES    AT   FORT    LARAMIE.'  135 

Vista.  Yet  for  the  most  part,  they  were  the  rudest  and  most 
ignorant  of  the  frontier  population  ;  they  knew  absolutely 
nothing  of  the  country  and  its  inhabitants ;  they  had  already 
experienced  much  misfortune,  and  apprehended  more  ;  they 
had  seen  nothing  of  mankind,  and  had  never  put  their  own  re- 
sources to  the  test. 

A  full  proportion  of  suspicion  fell  upon  us.  Being  strangers, 
we  were  looked  upon  as  enemies.  Having  occasion  for  a  supply 
of  lead  and  a  few  other  necessary  articles,  we  used  to  go  over 
to  the  emigrant  camps  to  obtain  them.  After  some  hesitation, 
some  dubious  glances,  and  fumbling  of  the  hands  in  the  pockets, 
the  terms  would  be  agreed  upon,  the  price  tendered,  and  the 
emigrant  would  go  off  to  bring  the  article  in  question.  After 
waiting  until  our  patience  gave  out,  we  would  go  in  search  of 
him,  and  find  him  seated  on  the  tongue  of  his  wagon. 

'  Well,  stranger,'  he  would  observe,  as  he  saw  us  approach, 
'  I  reckon  1  won't  trade  !' 

Some  friend  of  his  had  followed  him  from  the  scene  of  the 
bargain,  and  suggested  in  his  ear  that  clearly  we  meant  to  cheat 
him,  and  he  had  better  have  nothing  to  do  with  us. 

This  timorous  mood  of  the  emigrants  was  doubly  unfor- 
tunate, as  it  exposed  them  to  real  danger.  Assume,  in  the 
presence  of  Indians,  a  bold  bearing,  self-confident  yet  vigilant, 
and  you  will  find  them  tolerably  safe  neighbors.  But  your 
safety  depends  on  the  respect  and  fear  you  are  able  to  inspire. 
If  you  betray  timidity  or  indecision,  you  convert  them  from 
that  moment  into  insidious  and  dangerous  enemies.  The  Dah- 
cotah  saw  clearly  enough  the  perturbation  of  the  emigrants, 
and  instantly  availed  themselves  of  it.  They  became  ex- 
tremely  insolen    and  exacting  in  their  demands.     It  has  be- 


13G 


THK    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


come  an  established  custom  with  them  to  go  to  tlic  camp  of 
every  party,  as  it  arrives  in  succession  at  tlie  fort,  and  demand 
a  feast.  Smoke's  village  had  come  with  this  express  design, 
having  made  several  days'  journey  with  no  other  object  than 
tliat  of  enjoying  a  cup  of  coffee  and  two  or  three  biscuits.  So 
the  '  feast'  was  demanded,  and  the  emigrants  dared  not  refuse  it. 
One  evening,  about  sunset,  the  village  was  deserted.  We 
met  old  men,  warriors,  squaws,  and  children  in  gay  attire, 
trooping  off  to  the  encampment,  with  faces  of  anticipation  ;  and, 
arriving  here,  they  seated  themselves  in  a  semicircle.  Smoke 
occupied  the  centre,  with  his  warriors  on  either  hand ;  the 
young  men  and  boys  next  succeeded,  and  the  squaws  and 
children  formed  the  horns  of  the  crescent.  The  biscuit  and 
coffee  were  most  promptly  dispatched,  the  emigrants  staring 
open-mouthed  at  their  savage  guests.  With  each  emigrant 
party  that  arrived  at  Fort  Laramie  this  scene  vvas  renewed  ; 
and  every  day  the  Indians  grew  more  rapacious  and  presump- 
tuous.  One  evening,  they  broke  to  pieces,  out  of  mere  wan- 
tonness, the  cups  from  which  they  had  been  feasted  ;  and  this 
so  exasperated  the  emigrants,  that  many  of  them  seized  their 
rifles  and  could  scarcely  be  restrained  from  firing  on  the  inso- 
lent mob  of  Indians.  Before  we  left  the  country  this  dangerous 
spirit  on  the  part  of  the  Dahcotah  had  mounted  to  a  yet  higher 
pitch.  They  began  openly  to  threaten  the  emigrants  with  des- 
truction, and  actually  fired  upon  one  or  two  parties  of  whites. 
A  military  force  and  military  law  are  urgently  called  for  in 
that  perilous  region ;  and  unless  troops  are  speedily  stationed 
at  Fort  Laramie,  or  elsewhere  in  the  neighborhood,  both  the 
emigrants  and  other  travellers  will  be  exposed  to  most  immi- 
nent risks. 


SCENES    AT   FOKT    LARAMIE.  137 

The  Ogillallah,  the  Brule,  and  the  other  western  bands  of 
the  Dahcotah,  are  thorough  savages,  unchanged  by  any  con- 
tact with  civilization.  Not  one  of  them  can  speak  an  European 
tongue,  or  has  ever  visited  an  American  settlement.  Until 
within  a  year  or  two,  when  the  emigrants  began  to  pass 
through  their  country  on  the  way  to  Oregon,  they  had  seen 
no  whites  except  the  handful  employed  about  the  Fur  Com- 
pany's posts.  They  esteemed  them  a  wise  people,  inferior 
only  to  themselves,  living  in  leather  lodges,  like  their  own,  and 
subsisting  on  buffalo.  But  when  the  swarm  of  Meneaska,  with 
their  oxen  and  wagons,  began  to  invade  them,  their  astonish- 
ment was  unbounded.  They  could  scarcely  believe  that  the 
earth  contained  such  a  multitude  of  white  men.  Their  wonder 
is  now  giving  way  to  indignation  ;  and  the  result,  unless  vigi- 
lantly guarded  against,  may  be  lamentable  in  the  extreme. 

But  to  glance  at  the  interior  of  a  lodge.  Shaw  and  I  used 
often  to  visit  them.  Indeed  we  spent  most  of  our  evenings  in 
the  Indian  village  ;  Shaw's  assumption  of  the  medical  character 
giving  us  a  fair  pretext.  As  a  sample  of  the  rest  I  will  describe 
one  of  these  visits.  The  sun  had  just  set,  and  the  horses  were 
driven  into  the  corral.  The  Prairie  Cock,  a  noted  beau,  came 
in  at  the  gate  with  a  bevy  of  young  girls,  with  whom  he  began 
a  dance  in  the  area,  leading  them  round  and  round  in  a  circle, 
while  he  jerked  up  from  his  chest  a  succession  of  monotonous 
sounds,  to  which  they  kept  time  in  a  rueful  chant.  Outside  the 
gate,  boys  and  young  men  were  idly  frolicking ;  and  close  by, 
looking  grimly  upon  them,  stood  a  warrior  in 'his  robe,  with  his 
face  painted  jet-black,  in  token  that  he  had  lately  taken  a  Paw- 
nee  scalp.  Passing  these,  the  tall  dark  lodges  rose  between  us 
and  the  red  western  sky.     We  repaired  at  once  to  the  lodge  of 


138  THK    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

Old  Smoke  himself.  It  was  by  no  means  better  than  the  others ; 
indeed,  it  was  rather  shabby ;  for  in  this  democratic  communi- 
ty the  chief  never  assumes  superior  state.  Smoke  sat  cross- 
legged  on  a  buffalo-robe,  and  his  grunt  of  salutation  as  we 
entered,  was  unusually  cordial,  out  of  respect  no  doubt  to 
Shaw's  medical  character.  Seated  around  the  lodge  were  sev- 
eral squaws,  and  an  abundance  of  children.  The  complaint 
of  Shaw's  patients  was,  for  the  most  part,  t:  severe  inflammation 
of  the  eyes,  occasioned  by  exposure  to  the  sun,  a  species  of 
disorder  which  he  treated  with  some  success.  He  had  brought 
with  him  a  homoeopathic  medicine-chest,  and  was,  I  presume, 
the  first  who  introduced  that  harmless  system  of  treatment 
among  the  Ogillallah.  No  sooner  had  a  robe  been  spread  at 
the  head  of  the  lodge  for  our  accommodation,  and  we  had  seated 
ourselves  upon  it,  than  a  patient  made  her  appearance ;  the 
chief's  daughter  herself,  who,  to  do  her  justice,  was  the  best- 
looking  girl  in  the  village.  Being  on  excellent  terms  with  the 
physician,  she  placed  herself  readily  under  his  hands,  and 
submitted  with  a  good  grace  to  his  applications,  laughing  in  his 
face  during  the  whole  process,  for  a  squaw  hardly  knows  how 
to  smile.  This  case  dispatched,  another  of  a  different  kind 
succeeded.  A  hideous,  emaciated  old  woman  sat  in  the  darkest 
corner  of  the  lodge  rocking  to  and  fro  with  pain,  and  hiding  her 
eyes  from  the  light  by  pressing  the  palms  of  both  hands  against 
her  face.  At  Smoke's  command,  she  came  forward,  very  un- 
willingly, and  exhibited  a  pair  of  eyes  that  had  nearly  disap- 
peared from  excess  of  inflammation.  No  sooner  had  the  doctor 
fastened  his  gripe  upon  her,  than  she  set  up  a  dismal  moaning, 
and  writhed  so  in  his  grasp  that  he  lost  all  patience,  but  being 


SCENES    AT    FORT    LARAMIE.  139 

resolved  to  carry  his  point,  he  succeeded  at  last  in  applying  his 
favorite  remedies. 

*  It  is  strange,'  he  said,  when  the  operation  was  finished, 
'  that  I  forgot  to  bring  any  Spanish  flies  with  me ;  we  must 
have  something  here  to  answer  for  a  counter-irritant !' 

So,  in  the  absence  of  better,  he  seized  upon  a  red-hot  brand 
from  the  fire,  and  clapped  it  against  the  temple  of  the  old  squaw, 
who  set  up  an  unearthly  howl,  at  which  the  rest  of  the  family 
broke  out  into  a  laugh. 

During  these  medical  operations,  Smoke's  eldest  squaw  en- 
tered the  lodge,  with  a  sort  of  stone  mallet  in  her  hand.  I  had 
observed  some  time  before  a  litter  of  well-grown  black  puppies, 
comfortably  nestled  among  some  buffalo-robes  at  one  side  ;  but 
this  new-comer  speedily  disturbed  their  enjoyment ;  for  seizing 
one  of  them  by  the  hind  paw,  she  dragged  him  out,  and  carrying 
him  to  the  entrance  of  the  lodge,  hammered  him  on  the  head 
till  she  killed  him.  Being  quite  conscious  to  what  this  prepara- 
tion tended,  I  looked  through  a  hole  in  the  back  of  the  lodge  to 
see  the  next  steps  of  the  process.  The  squaw,  holding  the 
puppy  by  the  legs,  was  swinging  him  to  and  fro  through  the 
blaze  of  a  fire;  until  the  hair  w^s  singed  off".  This  done,  she 
unsheathed  her  knife  and  cut  him  into  small  pieces  which  she 
dropped  into  a  kettle  to  boil.  In  a  few  moments  a  large  wooden 
dish  was  set  before  us,  filled  with  this  delicate  preparation. 
We  felt  conscious  of  the  honor.  A  dog-feast  is  the  greatest 
compliment  a  Dahcotah  can  offer  to  his  guest ;  and  knowing 
that  to  refuse  eating  would  be  an  affront,  we  attacked  the  little 
dog,  and  devoured  him  before  the  eyes  of  his  unconscious  pa- 
rent. Smoke  in  the  mean  time  was  preparing  his  great  pipe. 
It  was  lighted  when  we  had  finished  our  repast,  and  we  passed 


140  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

it  frc^  one  to  anotlier  till  the  bowl  was  empty.  This  done,  we 
took  our  leave  without  farther  ceremony,  knocked  at  the  gate 
of  the  fort,  and  after  making  ourselves  known,  were  admitted. 
One  morning,  about  a  week  after  reaching  Fort  Laramie 
we  were  holding  our  customary  Indian  levee,  when  a  bustle  in 
the  area  below  announced  a  new  arrival  ;  and  looking  down 
from  our  balcony,  I  saw  a  familiar  red  beard  and  moustache  in 
the  gateway.  They  belonged  to  the  Captain,  who  with  his 
party  had  just  crossed  the  stream.  We  met  him  on  the  stairs 
as  he  came  up,  and  congratulated  him  on  the  safe  arrival  of 
himself  and  his  devoted  companions.  But  he  remembered  our 
treachery,  and  was  grave  and  dignified  accordingly ;  a  ten- 
dency which  increased  as  he  observed  on  our  part  a  disposi- 
tion to  laugh  at  him.  After  remaining  an  hour  or  two  at  the 
fort,  he  rode  away  with  his  friends,  and  we  have  heard  nothing 

of  him  since.     As  for  R ,  he  kept  carefully  aloof.     It  was 

but  too  evident  that  we  had  the  unhappiness  to  have  forfeited 
the  kind  regards  of  our  London  fellow-traveller. 


NOTE. 

Somewhat  more  than  a  year  from  this  time  Shaw  happened  to  be  in 
New  York,  and  coming  one  morning  down  the  steps  of  the  Astor  House, 
encountered  a  small  newsboy  with  a  bundle  of  penny  papers  under  his  arm, 
who  screamed  in  his  ear,  "  Another  great  battle  in  Mexico  !"  Shaw  bought 
a  paper,  and  having  perused  the  glorious  intelligence,  was  looking  over  the 
remaining  columns,  when  the  following  paragraph  attracted  his  notice  : 

English  Travelling  Sportsmen. — Among  the  notable  arrivals  in  town 

are   two   English  gentlemen,  William  and  John  C. ,  Esqrs.,  at   the 

Clin'on  Hotel,  on  their  return  home  after  an  extended  Buffalo  hurting  tour 


SCENES    AT    FORT    LARAMIE 


141 


in  Oregon  and  the  wild  West.  Their  party  crossed  the  continent  in  March, 
1846,  since  when  our  travellers  have  seen  the  wonders  of  our  great  West, 
the  Sandwich  Islands,  and  the  no  less  agreeable  Coast  of  Western  Mexico, 
California,  and  Peru.  With  the  real  zeal  of  sportsmen  they  have  pursued 
adventure  whenever  it  has  offered,  and  returned  with  not  only  a  correct 
knowledge  of  the  West,  but  with  many  a  trophy  that  shows  they  have 
found  the  grand  sport  they  sought.  The  account  of  "  Oregon,"  given  by 
those  observing  travellers,  is  most  glowing,  and  though  upon  a  pleasure 
trip,  the  advantages  to  be  realized  by  commercial  men  have  not  been  over- 
looked, and  they  prophecy  for  that  "  Western  State,"  a  prosperity  not  ex- 
ceeded at  the  east.  The  fisheries  are  spoken  of  as  the  best  in  the  country, 
and  only  equalled  by  the  rare  facilities  for  agriculture.  A  trip  like  this 
now  closed  is  a  rare  undertaking,  but  as  interesting  as  rare  to  those  who 
are  capable  of  a  full  appreciation  of  all  the  wonders  that  met  them  in  the 
magnificent  region  they  have  traversed. 

In  some  admiration  at  the  heroic  light  in  which  Jack  and  the  Captain 
were  here  set  forth,  Shaw  pocketed  the  newspaper,  and  proceeded  to  make 
inquiry  after  his  old  fellow-travellers.  Jack  was  out  of  town,  but  the 
Captain  was  quietly  established  at  his  hotel.  E.\cept  that  the  red  moustache 
was  shorn  away,  he  was  in  all  respects  the  same  man  whom  we  had  left 
upon  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte.  Every  recollection  of  former  difference? 
had  vanished  from  his  mind,  and   he   greeted  his  visitor  most  cordially. 

"  Where  is  R 1"  asked  Shaw.     •'  Gone  to  the  devil,"  hastily  replied  the 

Captain,  "  that  is.  Jack  and  I  parted  from  him  at  Oregon  City,  and  haven't 
seen  him  since."  He  next  proceeded  to  give  an  account  of  his  journeyings 
after  leaving  us  at  Fort  Laramie.  No  sooner,  it  seemed,  had  he  done  so, 
than  he  and  Jack  began  to  slaughter  the  buffalo  with  unrelenting  fury,  but 
when  they  reached  the  other  side  of  the  South  Pass  their  rifles  were  laid 
by  as  useless,  since  there  were  neither  Indians  nor  game  to  exercise  them 
upon.  From  this  point  the  journey,  as  the  Captain  expressed  it,  was  a  great 
bore.  When  they  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  he  and  Jack  sailed 
for  the  Sandwich  Islands,  whence  they  proceeded  to  Panama,  across  the 
Isthmus,  and  came  by  sea  to  New  Orleans. 

Shaw  and  our  friend  spent  the  evening  together,  and  when  they  finally 
separated  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  Captain's  ruddy  face  wa.<> 
ruddier  than  ever. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE      WAR      PARTIES. 

"  By  the  nine  gods  he  swore  it, 
And  named  a  trysling  day, 
And  bade  his  messengers  ride  forth 
East  and  west  and  south  and  north, 
To  summon  his  array." 

Lays  or  Ancieni  Rome. 

The  summer  of  1846  was  a  season  of  much  warlike  excite- 
ment among  all  the  western  bands  of  the  Dahcotah.  In  1845 
they  encountered  great  reverses.  Many  war  parties  had  been 
sent  out ;  some  of  them  had  been  totally  cut  off,  and  others  had 
returned  broken  and  disheartened  ;  so  that  the  whole  nation  was 
in  mourning.  Among  the  rest,  ten  warriors  had  gone  to  the 
Snake  country,  led  by  the  son  of  a  prominent  Ogillallah  chief, 
called  the  Whirlwind.  In  passing  over  Laramie  Plains  they 
encountered  a  superior  number  of  their  enemies,  were  sur- 
rounded, and  killed  to  a  man.  Having  performed  this  exploit, 
the  Snakes  became  alarmed,  dreading  the  resentment  of  the 
Dahcotah,  and  they  hastened  therefore  to  signify  their  wish  for 
peace  by  sending  the  scalp  of  the  slain  partisan,  together  with 
a  sma'.l  parcel  of  tobacco  attached,  to  his  tribesmen  and  relations. 
Thej  had  employed  old  Vaskiss,  the  trader,  as  their  messenger, 


THE   "WAR    PARTIES.  143 

and  the  scalp  was  the  same  that  hung  in  our  room  at  the  fort. 
But  the  Whirlwind  proved  inexorable.  Though  his  character 
hardly  corresponds  with  his  name,  he  is  nevertheless  an  Indian, 
and  hates  the  Snakes  with  his  whole  soul.  Long  before  the 
scalp  arrived,  he  had  made  his  preparations  for  revenge.  He 
sent  messengers  with  presents  and  tobacco  to  all  the  Dahcotah 
within  three  hundred  miles,  proposing  a  grand  combination  to 
chastise  the  Snakes,  and  naming  a  place  and  time  of  rendezvous. 
The  plan  was  readily  adopted,  and  at  this  moment  many  vil- 
lages, probably  embracing  in  the  whole  five  or  six  thousand 
souls,  were  slowly  creeping  over  the  prairies  and  tending  toward 
the  common  centre  at  '  La  Bonte's  Camp,'  on  the  Platte.  Here 
their  warlike  rites  were  to  be  celebrated  with  more  than  ordinary 
solemnity,  and  a  thousand  warriors,  as  it  was  said,  were  to  set 
out  for  the  enemy's  country.  The  characteristic  result  of  this 
preparation  will  appear  in  the  sequel. 

I  was  greatly  rejoiced  to  hear  of  it.  I  had  come  into  the 
country  almost  exclusively  with  a  view  of  observing  the  Indian 
character.  Having  from  childhood  felt  a  curiosity  on  this  sub- 
ject, and  having  failed  completely  to  gratify  it  by  reading,  I 
resolved  to  have  recourse  to  observation.  I  wished  to  satisfy 
myself  with  regard  to  the  position  of  the  Indians  among  the 
races  of  men ;  the  vices  and  the  virtues  that  have  sprung  from 
their  innate  character  and  from  their  modes  of  life,  their  gov- 
ernment,  their  superstitions,  and  their  domestic  situation.  To 
accomplish  my  purpose  it  was  necessary  to  live  in  the  midst  of 
them,  and  become,  as  it  were,  one  of  them.  I  proposed  to  join 
a  village,  and  make  myself  an  inmate  of  one  of  their  lodges ; 
and  henceforward  this  narrative,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  will 
be  chiefly  a  record  of  the  progress  of  this  design,  apparently  so 


10" 


114  THE    CALIFOKNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

easy  of  acconiplislniicnt,  and  the  unexpected  impediments  that 
opposed  it. 

We  resolved  on  no  account  to  miss  the  rendezvous  at  '  La 
Bonte's  Camp.'  Our  plan  was  to  leave  Delorier  at  the  fort,  in 
charge  of  our  eijuipage  and  the  better  part  of  our  horses,  while 
we  took  with  us  nothing  but  our  weapons  and  the  worst  animals 
we  had.  In  all  probability  jealousies  and  quarrels  would  arise 
among  so  many  hordes  of  fierce  impulsive  savages,  congregated 
together  under  no  common  head,  and  many  of  them  strangers, 
from  remote  prairies  and  mountains.  We  were  bound  in  com- 
mon prudence  to  be  cautious  how  we  excited  any  feeling  of 

'  cupidity.     This  was  our  plan,   but  unhappily   we   were  not 

destined  to  visit  '  La  Bonte's  Camp'  in  this  manner ;   for  one 

j  morning  a  young  Indian  came  to  the  fort  and  brought  us  evil 

tidings.  The  new-comer  was  a  dandy  of  the  first  water.  His 
ugly  face  was  painted  with  vermilion ;  on  his  head  fluttered 
Ihe  tail  of  a  prairie-cock,  (a  large  species  of  pheasant,  not  found, 
as  I  have  heard,  eastward  of  the  Rocky  Mountains ;)  in  his  ears 

I  were  hung  pendants  of  shell,  and   a  flaming  red   blanket  was 

I  wrapped  around  him.     He  carried  a  dragoon-sword  in  his  hand, 

solely  for  display,  since  the  knife,  the  arrow,  and  the  rifle  are 
i 
I  the  arbiters  of  every  prairie  fight ;  but  as  no  one  in  this  country 

j  goes  abroad  unarmed,  the  dandy  carried  a  bow  and  arrows  in 

an  otter-skin  quiver  at  his  back.  In  this  guise,  and  bestriding 
I  his  yellow  horse  with  an  air  of  extreme  dignity,  '  The  Horse,' 

for  that  was  his  name,  rode  in  at  the  gate,  turning  neither  to 
I  the  right  nor  the  left,  but  casting  glances  askance  at  the  groups 

of  squaws  who,  with  their  mongrel  progeny,  were  sitting  in  the 
j  sun    before    their  doors.     The   evil  tidings  brought  by  '  The 

Horse'  were  of  the  following  import :     The  squaw  of  Henry 


THE    WAR   PARTIES.  145 

Chatillon,  a  woman  with  whom  he  had  been  connected  for  years 
by  the  strongsst  ties  which  in  that  country  exist  between  the 
sexes,  was  dangerously  ill.  She  and  her  children  were  in  the 
village  of  the  Whirlwind,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  days'  journey. 
Henry  was  anxious  to  see  the  woman  before  she  died,  and 
provide  for  the  safety  and  support  of  his  children,  of  whom  he 
was  extremely  fond.  To  have  refused  him  this  would  have 
been  gross  inhumanity.  We  abandoned  our  plan  of  joining 
Smoke's  village,  and  of  proceeding  with  it  to  the  rendezvous, 
and  determined  to  meet  The  Whirlwind,  and  go  in  his  company. 
I  had  been  slightly  ill  for  several  weeks,  but  on  the  third 
night  after  reaching  Fort  Laramie  a  violent  pain  awoke  me, 
and  I  found  myself  attacked  by  the  same  disorder  that  occasioned 
such  heavy  losses  to  the  army  on  the  Rio  Grande.  In  a  day 
and  a  half  I  was  reduced  to  extreme  weakness,  so  that  I  could 
not  walk  without  pain  and  effort.  Having  within  that  time 
taken  six  grains  of  opium,  without  the  least  beneficial  effect, 
and  having  no  medical  adviser,  nor  any  choice  of  diet,  I  resolved 
to  throw  myself  upon  Providence  for  recovery,  using,  without 
regard  to  the  disorder,  any  portion  of  strength  that  might  remain 
to  me.  So  on  the  twentieth  of  June  we  set  out  from  Fort 
Laramie  to  meet  the  Whirlwind's  village.  Though  aided  by 
the  high-bowed  *  mountain-saddle,'  I  could  scarcely  keep  my 
seat  on  horseback.  Before  we  left  the  fort  we  hired  another 
man,  a  long-haired  Canadian,  with  a  face  like  an  owl's,  con- 
trasting oddly  enough  with  Delorier's  mercurial  countenance. 
This  was  not  the  only  reinforcement  to  our  party.  A  vagrant 
Indian  trader,  named  Reynal,  joined  us,  together  with  his  squaw 
Margot,  and  her  two  nephews,  our  dandy  friend,  '  The  Horse,' 
and  his  younger  brother,  '  The  Hail  Storm.'     Thus   accom- 

7 


14fi 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 


panied,  we  betook  ourselves  to  the  prairie,  leaving  t}  e  beaten 
trail,  and  passing  over  the  desolate  hills  that  flank  the  bottoms 
of  Laramie  Creek.  In  all,  Indians  and  whites,  we  counted 
eight  men  and  one  woman. 

Reynal,  the  trader,  the  image  of  sleek  and  selfish  compla- 
cency, carried  '  The  Horse's '  dragoon-sword  in  his  hand,  delight- 
ing apparently  in  this  useless  parade  ;  for,  from  spending  half 
his  life  among  Indians,  he  had  caught  not  only  their  habits  but 
their  ideas.  Margot,  a  female  animal  of  more  than  two  hun- 
dred pounds'  weight,  was  couched  in  the  basket  of  a  travail, 
such  as  I  have  before  described  ;  besides  her  ponderous  bulk, 
various  domestic  utensils  were  attached  to  the  vehicle,  and  she 
was  leading  by  a  trail-rope  a  packhorse,  who  carried  the  cov- 
ering of  Reynal's  lodge.  Delorier  walked  briskly  by  the  side 
of  the  cart,  and  Raymond  came  behind,  swearing  at  the  spare 
horses  which  it  was  his  business  to  drive.  The  restless  young 
Indians,  their  quivers  at  their  backs  and  their  bows  in  their 
hands,  galloped  over  the  hills,  often  starting  a  wolf  or  an  ante- 
lope from  the  thick  growth  of  wild-sage  bushes.  Shaw  and  I 
were  in  keeping  with  the  rest  of  the  rude  cavalcade,  having  in 
the  absence  of  other  clothing  adopted  the  buckskin  attire  of  the 
trappers.  Henry  Chatillon  rode  in  advance  of  the  whole. 
Thus  we  passed  hill  after  hill  and  hollow  after  hollow,  a  coun- 
try arid,  broken,  and  so  parched  by  the  sun  that  none  of  the 
plants  familiar  to  our  more  favored  soil  would  flourish  upon  it, 
though  there  were  multitudes  of  strange  medicinal  herbs,  more 
especially  the  absanth,  i/hich  covered  every  declivity,  and 
cacti  were  hanging  like  reptiles  at  the  edges  of  every  ravine. 
At  length  we  ascended  a  high  hill,  our  horses  treading  upon 
pebbles  of  flint,  agate,  and  rough  jasper,  until,  gaining  the  top, 


THE    WAR    PARTIES.  147 

we  looked  down  on  the  wild  bottoms  of  Laramie  CreeA,  which 
far  below  us  wound  like  a  writhing  snake  from  side  to  side  of 
the  narrow  interval,  amid  a  growth  of  shattered  cotton-wood 
and  ash  trees.  Lines  of  tall  cliffs,  white  as  chalk,  shut  in  this 
green  strip  of  woods  and  meadow-land,  into  which  we  descended 
and  encamped  for  the  night.  In  the  morning  we  passed  a  wide 
grassy  plain  by  the  river  ;  there  was  a  grove  in  front,  and  be- 
neath its  shadows  the  ruins  of  an  old  trading  fort  of  logs.  The 
grove  bloomed  with  myriads  of  wild  roses,  with  their  sweet 
perfume  fraught  with  recollections  of  home.  As  we  emerged 
from  the  trees,  a  rattlesnake,  as  large  as  a  man's  arm,  and 
more  than  four  feet  long,  lay  coiled  on  a  rock,  fiercely  rattling 
and  hissing  at  us  ;  a  gray  hare,  double  the  size  of  those  of  New 
England,  leaped  up  from  the  tall  ferns ;  curlew  were  screaming 
over  our  heads,  and  a  whole  host  of  little  prairie-dogs  sat  yelp- 
ing at  us  at  the  mouths  of  their  burrows  on  the  dry  plain 
beyond.  Suddenly  an  antelope  leaped  up  from  the  wild-sage 
bushes,  gazed  eagerly  at  us,  and  then  erecting  his  white  tail, 
stretched  away  like  a  greyhound.  The  two  Indian  boys  found 
a  white  wolf,  as  large  as  a  calf,  in  a  hollow,  and  giving  a  sharp 
yell,  they  galloped  after  him ;  but  the  wolf  leaped  into  the 
stream  and  swam  across.  Then  came  the  crack  of  a  rifle,  the 
bullet  whistling  harmlessly  over  his  head,  as  he  scrambled  up 
the  steep  declivity,  rattling  down  stones  and  earth  into  the  water 
below.  Advancing  a  little,  we  beheld,  on  the  farther  bank  of  the 
stream,  a  spectacle  not  common  even  in  that  region  ;  for,  emerg- 
ing from  among  the  trees,  a  he"d  of  some  two  hundred  elk  came 
out  upon  the  meadow,  their  antlers  clattering  as  they  walked 
forward  in  a  dense  throng.  Seeing  us,  they  broke  into  a  run, 
rushing  across  the  opening  and  disappearing  among  the  trees 


148 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 


and  scattered  groves.  On  our  left  was  a  barren  prairie,  stretch- 
iiig  to  the  horizon ;  on  our  right,  a  deep  gulf,  witli  Laramie 
Crcei<  at  the  bottom.  We  found  ourselves  at  length  at  the  edge 
of  a  steep  descent ;  a  narrow  valley,  witli  long  rank  grass  and 
scattered  trees  stretching  before  us  for  a  mile  or  more  along  the 
course  of  the  stream.  Reaching  the  farther  end,  we  slopped 
and  encamped.  An  old  huge  cotton-wood  tree  spread  its 
branches  horizontally  over  our  tent.  Laramie  Creek,  circling 
before  our  camp,  half  inclosed  us ;  it  swept  along  the  bottom 
of  a  line  of  tall  white  cliffs  that  looked  down  on  us  from  the 
farther  bank.  There  were  dense  copsea  on  our  right ;  the 
cliffs,  too,  were  half  hidden  by  shrubbery,  though  behind  us  a 
few  cotton-wood  trees,  dotting  the  green  prairie,  alone  impeded 
the  view,  and  friend  or  enemy  could  be  discerned  in  that  direc- 
tion at  a  mile's  distance.  Here  we  resolved  to  remain  and 
await  the  arrival  of  the  Whirlwind,  who  would  certainly  pass 
this  way  in  his  progress  toward  La  Bonte's  Camp.  To  go  in 
search  of  him  was  not  expedient,  both  on  account  of  the  broken 
and  impracticable  nature  of  the  country  and  the  uncertainty  of 
his  position  and  movements ;  besides,  our  horses  were  almost 
worn  out,  and  I  was  in  no  condition  to  travel.  We  had  good 
grass,  good  water,  tolerable  fish  from  the  stream,  and  plenty  of 
smaller  game,  such  as  antelope  and  deer,  though  no  buffalo. 
There  was  one  little  drawback  to  our  satisfaction ;  a  certain 
extensive  tract  of  bushes  and  dried  grass,  just  behind  us,  which 
it  was  by  no  means  advisable  to  enter,  since  it  sheltered  a 
numerous  brood  of  rattlesnakes.  Henry  Chatillon  again  dis- 
patched '  The  Horse  '  to  the  village,  with  a  message  to  his  squaw 
that  she  and  her  relatives  should  leave  the  rest  and  push  on  as 
rapidly  as  possible  to  our  camp. 


THE   WAR    PARTIES.  149 

Our  daily  routine  soon  became  as  regular  as  that  of  a  well- 
ordered  household.  The  weather-beaten  old  tree  was  in  the 
centre ;  our  rifles  generally  rested  against  its  vast  trunk,  and 
our  saddles  were  flung  on  the  ground  around  it ;  its  distorted 
roots  were  so  twisted  as  to  form  one  or  two  convenient  arm- 
chairs, where  we  could  sit  in  the  shade  and  read  or  smoke  ;  but 
meal-times  became,  on  the  whole,  the  most  interesting  hours  of 
the  day,  and  a  bountiful  provision  was  made  for  them.  An 
antelope  or  a  deer  usually  swung  from  a  stout  bough,  and 
haunches  were  suspended  against  the  trunk.  That  camp  is 
daguerreotyped  on  my  memory ;  the  old  tree,  the  white  tent, 
with  Shaw  sleeping  in  the  shadow  of  it,  and  Reynal's  miserable 
lodge  close  by  the  bank  of  the  stream.  It  was  a  wretched  oven- 
shaped  structure,  made  of  begrimed  and  tattered  buffalo-hides 
stretched  over  a  frame  of  poles ;  one  side  was  open,  and  at  the 
side  of  the  opening  hung  the  powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch  of 
the  owner,  together  with  his  long  red  pipe,  and  a  rich  quiver 
of  otter-skin,  with  a  bow  and  arrows ;  for  Reynal,  an  Indian  in 
most  things  but  color,  chose  to  hunt  buffalo  with  these  primitive 
weapons.  In  the  darkness  of  this  cavern-like  habitation,  might 
be  discerned  Madame  Margot,  her  overgrown  bulk  stowed 
away  among  her  domestic  implements,  furs,  robes,  blankets,  and 
painted  cases  of  par'  Jl^che,  in  which  dried  meat  is  kept.  Here 
she  sat  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  a  bloated  impersonation  of  glut- 
tony and  laziness,  while  her  affectionate  proprietor  was  smoking, 
or  begging  petty  gifts'  from  us,  or  telling  lies  concerning  his  own 
achievements,  or  perchance  engaged  in  the  more  profitable 
occupation  of  cooking  some  preparation  of  prairie  delicacies. 
Reynal  was  an  adept  at  this  work  ;  he  and  Delorier  have  joined 
forces,  and  are  hard  at  work  together  over  the  fire,  while  Ray- 


150  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OIIKGO.N    TRAIL. 

mond  spreads,  by  way  of  table-cloth,  a  buflulo-hidc  carefully 
whitened  witli  pipeclay,  on  the  grass  before  tlic  tent.  Here, 
with  ostentatious  display,  he  arranges  the  teacups  and  plates; 
and  then,  creeping  on  all  fours,  like  a  dog,  he  tlirusts  his  head 
in  at  the  opening  of  the  tent.  For  a  moment  wc  see  his  round 
owlish  eyes  rolling  wildly,  as  if  the  idea  he  came  to  communi- 
cate had  suddenly  esc;iped  him ;  then  collecting  liis  scattered 
thoughts,  as  if  by  an  effort,  he  informs  us  that  supper  is  ready, 
and  instantly  withdraws. 

When  sunset  came,  and  at  that  hour  the  wild  and  desolate 
scene  would  assume  a  new  aspect,  the  horses  were  driven  in. 
Tliey  had  been  grazing  all  day  in  the  neighboring  meadow, 
but  now  they  were  picketed  close  about  the  camp.  As  the 
prairie  darkened  we  sat  and  conversed  around  the  fire,  until 
becoming  drowsy  we  spread  our  saddles  on  the  ground,  wrapped 
our  blankets  around  us  and  lay  down.  We  never  placed  a 
guard,  having  by  this  time  become  too  indolent ;  but  Henry 
Chatillon  folded  his  loaded  rifle  in  the  same  blanket  with  him- 
self, observing  that  he  always  took  it  to  bed  with  him  when  he 
camped  in  that  place.  Henry  was  too  bold  a  man  to  use  such 
a  precaution  without  good  cause.  We  had  a  hint  now  and 
then  that  our  situation  was  none  of  the  safest ;  several  Crow 
war-parties  were  known  to  be  in  the  vicinity,  and  one  of  them, 
that  passed  here  some  time  before,  had  peeled  the  bark  from  a 
neighboring  tree,  and  engraved  upon  the  white  wood  certain 
hieroglyphics,  to  signify  that  they  had  invaded  the  territories 
of  their  enemies,  the  Dahcotah,  and  set  them  at  defiance.  One 
morning  a  thick  mist  covered  the  whole  country.  Shaw  and 
Henry  went  out  to  ride,  and  soon  came  back  with  a  startling 
piece  of  intelligence ;  they  had  found  within  rifle-shot  of  our 


THE    WAR    PARTIES.  151 

camp  the  recent  trail  of  about  thirty  horsemen.  They  could 
not  be  whites,  and  they  could  not  be  Dahcotah,  since  we  knew 
no  such  parties  to  be  in  the  neighborhood  ;  therefore  they  must 
be  Crows.  Thanks  to  that  friendly  mist,  we  had  escaped  a 
hard  battle  ;  they  would  inevitably  have  attacked  us  and  our 
Indian  companions  had  they  seen  our  camp.  Whatever  doubts 
we  might  have  entertained,  were  quite  removed  a  day  or  two 
after,  by  two  or  three  Dahcotah,  who  came  to  us  with  an  ac- 
count of  having  hidden  in  a  ravine  on  that  very  morning,  from 
whence  they  saw  and  counted  the  Crows ;  they  said  that  they 
followed  them,  carefully  keeping  out  of  sight,  as  they  passed  up 
Chugwater ;  that  here  the  Crows  discovered  five  dead  bodies 
of  Dahcotah,  placed  according  to  the  national  custom  in  trees, 
and  flinging  them  to  the  ground,  they  held  their  guns  against 
them  and  blew  them  to  atoms. 

If  our  camp  were  not  altogether  safe,  still  it  was  comfort- 
able enough  ;  at  least  it  was  so  to  Shaw,  for  I  was  tormented 
with  illness  and  vexed  by  the  delay  in  the  accomplishment  of 
my  designs. .  When  a  respite  in  my  disorder  gave  me  some 
returning  strength,  I  rode  out  well  armed  upon  the  prairie,  or 
bathed  with  Shaw  in  the  stream,  or  waged  a  petty  warfare  with 
the  inhabitants  of  a  neighboring  prairie-dog  village.  Around 
our  fire  at  night  we  employed  ourselves  in  inveighing  against 
the  fickleness  and  inconstancy  of  Indians,  and  execrating  the 
Whirlwind  and  all  his  village.  At  last  the  thing  grew  insuffer- 
able, 

'  To-morrow  morning,'  said  I,  '  I  will  start  for  the  fort,  and 
see  if  I  can  hear  any  news  there.  Late  that  evening,  when 
the  fire  had  sunk  low,  and  all  the  camp  were  asleep,  a  loud 
cry  sounded  from  the  darkness.     Henry  started  up,  recognized 


152  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OnEGON    TRAIL. 

the  voice,  replied  to  it,  and  our  dandy  friend,  '  The  Horse,'  rode 
in  among  us,  just  returned  from  his  mission  to  the  village.  He 
coolly  picketed  his  marc,  without  saying  a  word,  sat  down  by 
the  fire  and  began  to  eat,  but  his  imperturbable  philosophy  was 
too  much  for  our  patience.  Where  was  the  village  ? — about 
fifty  miles  south  of  us  ;  it  was  moving  slowly  and  would  not 
arrive  in  less  than  a  week  ;  and  where  was  Henry's  squaw  ? 
coming  as  fast  as  she  could  witli  Mahto-Tatonka,  and  the  rest  of 
her  brothers,  but  she  would  never  reach  us,  for  she  was  dying, 
and  asking  every  moment  for  Henry.  Henry's  manly  face 
became  clouded  and  downcast ;  he  said  that  if  we  were  willing 
ne  would  go  in  the  morning  to  find  her,  at  which  Shaw  offered 
to  accompany  him. 

We  saddled  our  horses  at  sunrise.  Reynal  protested 
vehemently  against  being  left  alone,  with  nobody  but  the  two 
Canadians  and  the  young  Indians,  when  enemies  were  in  the 
neighborhood.  Disregarding  his  complaints,  we  left  him,  and 
coming  to  the  mouth  of  Chugwater,  separated,  Shaw  and  Henry 
turning  to  the  right,  up  the  bank  of  the  stream,  while  I  made 
for  the  fort. 

Taking  leave  for  a  while  of  my  friend  and  the  unfortunate 
squaw,  I  will  relate  by  way  of  episode  what  I  saw  and  did  at 
Fort  Laramie.  It  was  not  more  than  eighteen  miles  distant, 
and  I  reached  it  in  three  hours ;  a  shrivelled  little  figure, 
wrapped  from  head  to  foot  in  a  dingy  white  Canadian  capote, 
stood  in  the  gateway,  holding  by  a  cord  of  bull's  hide,  a  shaggy 
wild-horse,  which  he  had  lately  caught.  His  sharp  prominent 
features,  and  his  little  keen  snake-like  eyes,  looked  out  from 
beneath  the  shadowy  hood  of  the  capote,  which  was  drawn 
over  his  head  exactly  like  the  cowl  of  a  Capuchin  friar.     His 


THE    WAR    PARTIES.  153 

face  was  extremely  thin  and  like  an  old  piece  of  leather,  and 
his  mouth  spread  from  ear  to  ear.  Extending  his  long  wiry 
hand,  he  welcomed  me  with  something  more  cordial  than  the 
ordinary  cold  salute  of  an  Indian,  for  we  were  excellent  friends. 
He  had  made  an  exchange  of  horses  to  our  mutual  advantage ; 
and  Paul,  thinking  himself  well-treated,  had  declared  every 
where  that  the  white  man  had  a  good  heart.  He  was  a 
Dahcotah  from  the  Missouri,  a  reputed  son  of  the  half-breed 
interpreter,  Pierre  Dorion,  so  often  mentioned  in  Irving's 
'  Astoria.'  He  said  that  he  was  going  to  Richard's  trading- 
house  to  sell  his  horse  to  some  emigrants,  who  were  encamped 
there,  and  asked  me  to  go  with  him.  We  forded  the  stream 
together,  Paul  dragging  his  wild  charge  behind  him.  As  we 
passed  over  the  sandy  plains  beyond,  he  grew  quite  communi- 
cative. Paul  was  a  cosmopolitan  in  his  way  ;  he  had  been  to 
the  settlements  of  the  whites,  and  visited  in  peace  and  war  most 
of  the  tribes  within  the  range  of  a  thousand  miles.  He  spoke 
a  jargon  of  French  and  another  of  English,  yet  nevertheless 
he  was  a  thorough  Indian ;  and  as  he  told  of  the  bloody  deeds 
of  his  own  people  against  their  enemies,  his  little  eye  would 
glitter  with  a  fierce  lustre.  He  told  how  the  Dahcotah  exter- 
minated a  village  of  the  Hohays  on  the  Upper  Missouri, 
slaughtering  men,  women,  and  children ;  and  how  an  over- 
whelming force  of  them  cut  off  sixteen  of  the  brave  Delawares, 
who  fought  like  wolves  to  the  last,  amid  the  throng  of  their 
enemies.  He  told  me  also  another  story,  which  I  did  not 
believe  until  I  had  heard  it  confirmed  from  so  many  independent 
sources  that  no  room  was  left  for  doubt.  I  am  tempted  to  in- 
troduce it  here. 

Six  years  ago,  a  fellow  named  Jim  Beckwith,  a  mongrel  of 


154  THE    CALIFOHNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

French,  American,  and  negro  blooil,  was  trading  for  the  Fur 
Company,  in  a  very  large  village  of  tlie  Crows.  Jim  Beckwith 
was  last  summer  at  St.  Louis.  He  is  a  ruffian  of  the  first 
stamp  ;  bloody  and  treacherous,  without  honor  or  honesty ; 
such  at  least  is  the  character  he  bears  upon  the  prairie.  Yet 
in  his  case  all  the  standard  rules  of  character  fail,  for  though 
he  will  stab  a  man  in  his  sleep,  he  will  also  perform  most  des- 
perate acts  of  daring ;  such  for  instance  as  the  following : 
While  he  was  in  the  Crow  village,  a  Blackfoot  war-party, 
between  thirty  and  forty  in  number,  came  stealing  through  tlie 
country,  killing  stragglers  and  carrying  off  horses.  The  Crow 
warriors  got  upon  their  trail  and  pressed  them  so  closely  that 
they  could  not  escape,  at  which  the  Blackfeet,  throwing  up  a 
semicircular  breastwork  of  logs  at  the  foot  of  a  precipice, 
coolly  awaited  their  approach.  The  logs  and  sticks  piled  four 
or  five  feet  high,  protected  them  in  front.  The  Crows  might 
have  swept  over  the  breastwork  and  exterminated  their  ene- 
mies ;  but  though  outnumbering  them  tenfold,  they  did  not 
dream  of  storming  the  little  fortification.  Such  a  proceeding 
would  be  altogether  repugnant  to  their  notions  of  warfare. 
Whooping  and  yelling,  and  jumping  from  side  to  side  like 
devils  incarnate,  they  showered  bullets  and  arrows  upon  the 
logs  ;  not  a  Blackfoot  was  hurt,  but  several  Crows,  in  spite  of 
their  leaping  and  dodging  were  shot  down.  In  tliis  childish 
manner,  the  fight  went  on  for  an  hour  or  two.  Now  and  then 
a  Crow  warrior  in  an  ecstasy  of  valor  and  vainglory  would 
scream  forth  his  war-song,  boasting  himself  the  bravest  and 
greatest  of  mankind,  and  grasping  his  hatchet,  would  rush  up 
and  strike  it  upon  the  breastwork,  and  then  as  he  retreated  to 
his  companions,  fall  dead  under  a  shower  of  arrows ;  yet  no 


THE    WAR    PARTIES.  155 

combined  attack  seemed  to  be  dreamed  of.  The  Blackfeet  re- 
mained secure  in  their  intrenchment.  At  last  Jim  Beckwith 
lost  patience  ; 

'  You  are  all  fools  and  old  women,'  he  said  to  the  Crows  ; 
*  come  with  me,  if  any  of  you  are  brave  enough,  and  I  will 
show  you  how  to  fight.' 

He  threw  off  his  trapper's  frock  of  buckskin  and  stripped 
himself  naked  like  the  Indians  themselves.  He  left  his  rifle 
on  the  ground,  and  taking  in  his  hand  a  small  light  hatchet,  he 
ran  over  the  prairie  to  the  right,  concealed  by  a  hollow  from 
the  eyes  of  the  Blackfeet.  Then  climbing  up  the  rocks,  he 
gained  the  top  of  the  precipice  behind  them.  Forty  or  fifty 
young  Crow  warriors  followed  him.  By  the  cries  and  whoops 
that  rose  from  below  he  knew  that  the  Blackfeet  were  just 
beneath  him  ;  and  running  forward  he  leaped  down  the  rock 
into  the  midst  of  them.  As  he  fell  he  caught  one  by  the  long 
I0033;  hair,  and  dragging  him  down  tomahawked  him  ;  then 
grar.j-.ing  another  by  the  belt  at  his  waist,  he  struck  him  also  a 
stunning  blow,  and  gaining  his  feet,  shouted  the  Crow  war- 
cry.  He  swung  his  hatchet  so  fiercely  around  him,  that  the 
astoiiished  Blackfeet  bore  back  and  gave  him  room.  He  might, 
had  he  chosen,  have  leaped  over  the  breastwork  and  escaped ; 
but  this  was  not  necessary,  for  with  devilish  yells  the  Crow 
warriors  came  dropping  in  quick  succession  over  the  rock 
among  their  enemies.  The  main  body  of  the  Crows,  too, 
answered  the  cry  from  the  front,  and  rushed  up  simultaneously. 
The  convulsive  struggle  within  the  breastwork  was  frightful ; 
for  an  instant  the  Blackfeet  fought  \nd  yelled  like  pent-up 
tigers  ;  but  the  butchery  was  soon  complete,  and  the  mangled 


156 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 


bodies  lay  piled  up  together  under  the  precipice.  Not  a 
Blackfoot  made  iiis  escape. 

As  Paul  finished  his  story  we  came  in  sight  of  Richard's 
fort.  It  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  plain  ;  a  disorderly  crowd 
of  men  around  it,  and  an  emigrant  camp  a  little  in  front. 

'  Now,  Paul,'  said  I,  '  where  are  your  Minnicongew 
lodges  V 

'  Not  come  yet,'  said  Paul,  '  may  be  come  to-morrow.' 

Two  large  villages  of  a  band  of  Dahcotah  had  come  three 
hundred  miles  from  the  Missouri,  to  join  in  the  war,  and  they 
were  expected  to  reach  Richard's  that  morning.  There  was 
as  yet  no  sign  of  their  approach  ;  so  pushing  through  a  noisy, 
drunken  crowd,  I  entered  an  apartment  of  logs  and  mud,  the 
largest  in  the  fort :  it  was  full  of  men  of  various  races  and 
complexions,  all  more  or  less  drunk.  A  company  of  California 
emigrants,  it  seemed,  had  made  the  discovery  at  this  late  day  that 
they  had  encumbered  themselves  with  too  many  supplies  for  their 
journey.  A  part  therefore  they  had  thrown  away  or  sold  at 
great  loss  to  the  traders,  but  had  determined  to  get  rid  of  their 
very  copious  stock  of  Missouri  whisky,  by  drinking  it  on  the 
spot.  Here  were  maudlin  squaws  stretched  on  piles  of  buffalo- 
robes  ;  squalid  Mexicans,  armed  with  bows  and  arrows ; 
Indians  sedately  drunk  ;  long-haired  Canadians  and  trappers, 
and  American  backwoodsmen  in  brown  homespun  ;  the  well- 
beloved  pistol  and  bowie-knife  displayed  openly  at  their  sides. 
In  the  middle  of  the  room  a  tall,  lank  rnan,  with  a  dingy 
broadcloth  coat,  was  haranguing  the  company  in  the  style  of 
the  stump  orator.  With  one  hand  he  sawed  the  air,  and  with 
the  other  clutched  firmly  a  brown  jug  of  whisky,  which  he 
applied  every  moment  to  his  lips,  forgetting  that  he  had  drained 


r 


THE    WAR    PARTIE-S.  157 

the  contents  long  ago.     Richard  formally  introduced  me  to  this 

personage  ;  who  was  no  less  a  man  than  Colonel   R ,  once 

the  leader  of  the  party.  Instantly  the  Colonel  seizing  me,  in 
the  absence  of  buttons,  by  the  leather  fringes  of  my  frock, 
began  to  define  his  position.  His  men,  he  said,  had  mutinied 
and  deposed  him ;  but  still  he  exercised  over  them  the  influ- 
ence of  a  superior  mind  ;  in  all  but  the  name  he  was  yet  their 
chief.  As  the  Colonel  spoke,  I  looked  round  on  the  wild 
assemblage,  and  could  not  help  thinking  that  he  was  but  ill 
qualified  to  conduct  such  men  across  the  deserts  to  California. 
Conspicuous  among  the  rest  stood  three  tall  young  men,  grand- 
sons of  Daniel  Boone.  Tiiey  had  clearly  inherited  the  adven- 
turous character  of  that  prince  of  pioneers  ;  but  I  saw  no  signs 
of  the  quiet  and  tranquil  spirit  that  so  remarkably  distinguished 
him. 

Fearful  was  the  fate  that  months  after  overtook  some  of  the 
menjbers  of  that  party.  General  Kearny,  on  his  late  return  from 
California,  brought  in  the  account  how  they  were  interrupted 
by  the  deep  snows  among  the  mountains,  and  maddened  by  cold 
and  hunger,  fed  upon  each  other's  flesh  ! 

I  got  tired  of  the  confusion.  '  Come,  Paul,'  said  I,  '  we  will 
be  off.'  Paul  sat  in  the  sun,  under  the  wall  of  the  fort.  He 
jumped  up,  mounted,  and  we  rode  toward  Fort  Laramie. 
When  we  reached  it,  a  man  came  out  of  the  gate  with  a  pack 
at  his  back  and  a  rifle  on  his  shoulder ;  others  were  gathering 
about  him,  shaking  him  by  the  hand,  as  if  taking  leave.  I 
thought  it  a  strange  thing  that  a  man  should  set  out  alone  and 
on  foot  for  the  prairie.  I  soon  got  an  explanation.  Perrault 
— this,  if  1  recollect  right,  was  the  Canadian's  name — had 
quarrelled  with  the  bourgeois,  and  the  fort  was  too  hot  to  hold 


IT 


153  TIIK    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

him.  Bordeaux,  inflated  with  his  transient  authority,  had 
abused  him,  ami  received  a  blow  in  return.  The  men  then 
sprang  at  each  other,  and  grappled  in  the  middle  of  the  fort. 
Bordeaux  was  down  in  an  instant,  at  the  mercy  of  the  incensed 
Canadian  ;  had  not  an  old  Indian,  the  brotlier  of  his  squaw, 
seized  hold  of  his  antagonist,  he  would  have  fared  ill.  Per- 
rault  broke  loose  from  the  old  Indian,  and  both  the  white  men 
ran  to  their  rooms  for  their  guns ;  but  when  Bordeaux,  looking 
from  his  door,  saw  the  Canadian,  gun  in  hand,  standing  in  the 
area  and  calling  on  him  to  come  out  and  fight,  his  heart  failed 
him  ;  he  chose  to  remain  where  he  was.  In  vain  the  old 
Indian,  scandalized  by  his  brother-in-law's  cowardice,  called 
upon  him  to  go  upon  the  prairie  and  fight  it  out  in  the  white 
man's  manner;  and  Bordeaux's  own  squaw,  equally  incensed, 
screamed  to  her  lord  and  master  that  he  was  a  dog  and  an  old 
woman.  It  all  availed  nothing.  Bordeaux's  prudence  got 
the  better  of  his  valor,  and  he  would  not  stir.  Perrault  stood 
showering  opprobrious  epithets  at  the  recreant  bourgeois. 
Growing  tired  of  this,  he  made  up  a  pack  of  dried  meat,  and 
slinging  it  at  his  back,  set  out  alone  for  Fort  Pierre,  on  the 
Missouri,  a  distance  of  three  hundred  miles,  over  a  desert 
country,  full  of  hostile  Indians. 

I  remained  in  the  fort  that  night.  In  the  morning,  as  I  was 
coming  out  from  breakfast,  conversing  with  a  trader  named 
McCluskey,  I  saw  a  strange  Indian  leaning  against  the  side  of 
the  gate.     He  was  a  tall,  strong  man,  with  heavy  features. 

'  Who  is  he  V  I  asked. 

'That's  the  Whirlwind,'  said  McCluskey.  'He  is  the 
fellow  that  made  all  this  stir  about  the  war.  It's  always  the 
way  with  the  Sioux ;    they  never  stop  cutting  each  other's 


THE   WAR   PARTIES.  159 

throats ;  it's  all  they  are  fit  for ;  instead  :  "  sitting  in  their 
lodges,  and  getting  robes  to  trade  with  us  in  the  winter.  If 
this  war  goes  on,  we'll  make  a  poor  trade  of  it  next  season,  I 
reckon.' 

And  this  was  the  opinion  of  all  the  traders,  who  were 
vehemently  opposed  to  the  war,  from  the  serious  injury  that  it 
must  occasion  to  their  interests.  The  Whirlwind  left  hi3  village 
the  day  before  to  make  a  visit  to  the  fort.  His  warlike  ardor 
had  abated  not  a  little  since  he  first  conceived  the  design  of 
avenging  his  son's  death.  The  long  and  complicated  prepara- 
tions for  the  expedition  were  too  much  for  his  fickle,  inconstant 
disposition.  That  morning  Bordeaux  fastened  upon  him,  made 
him  presents,  and  told  him  that  if  he  went  to  war  he  would  de- 
stroy his  horses  and  kill  no  buffalo  to  trade  with  the  white  men  ; 
in  short,  that  he  was  a  fool  to  think  of  such  a  thing,  and  had 
better  make  up  his  mind  to  sit  quietly  in  his  lodge  and  smoke 
his  pipe,  like  a  wise  man.  The  Whirlwind's  purpose  was 
evidently  shaken ;  he  had  become  tired,  like  a  child,  of  his 
favorite  plan.  Bordeaux  exultingly  predicted  that  he  would 
not  go  to  war.  My  philanthropy  at  that  time  was  no  match  for 
my  curiosity,  and  I  was  vexed  at  the  possibility  that  after  all  I 
might  lose  the  rare  opportunity  of  seeing  the  formidable  cere- 
monies of  war.  The  Whirlwind,  however,  had  merely  thrown 
the  firebrand  ;  the  conflagation  was  become  general.  All  the 
western  bands  of  the  Dahcotah  were  bent  on  war;  and  as  I  heard 
from  McCluskey,  six  large  villages  were  already  gathered  on 
a  little  stream,  forty  miles  distant,  and  were  daily  calling  to  the 
Great  Spirit  to  aid  them  in  their  enterprise.  McCluskey  had 
just  left  them,  and  represented  them  as  on  their  way  to  La 
Bonte's  Camp,  which  they  would  reach  in  a  week,  unless  they 


IGO  Tin:  cAi.iroKMA  and  Oregon  trail. 

sJiould  learn  that  there  were  no  bujfalo  ihere.  I  did  not  like  this 
condition,  for  buflulo  this  season  were  rare  in  the  neighborhood. 
There  were  also  the  two  Minnicongew  villages  that  I  mentioned 
before  ;  but  about  noon,  an  Indian  came  from  Richard's  Fort 
with  the  news  that  they  were  quarrelling,  breaking  up,  and 
dispersing.  So  much  for  the  whisky  of  the  emigrants 
Finding  themselves  unable  to  drink  the  whole;  they  had  sold 
the  residue  to  these  Indians,  and  it  needed  no  prophet  to  foretell 
the  result ;  a  spark  drop*  into  a  powder-magazine  would  not 
liave  produced  a  quicker  effect.  Instantly  the  old  jealousies 
and  rivalries  and  smothered  feuds  that  exist  in  an  Indian  village 
broke  out  into  furious  quarrels.  They  forgot  the  warlike 
enterprise  that  had  already  brought  them  three  hundred  miles. 
They  seemed  like  ungoverned  children  inflamed  with  the 
fiercest  passions  of  men.  Several  of  them  were  stabbed  in  the 
drunken  tumult;  and  in  the  morning  they  scattered  and  moved 
back  toward  the  Missouri  in  small  parties.  I  feared  that,  after 
all,  the  long-projected  meeting  and  the  ceremonies  that  were  to 
attend  it  might  never  take  place,  and  I  should  lose  so  admirable 
an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  Indian  under  his  most  fearful  and 
characteristic  aspect ;  however  in  foregoing  this,  I  should  avoid 
a  very  fair  probability  of  being  plundered  and  stripped,  and  it 
might  be,  stabbed  or  shot  into  the  bargain.  Consoling  myself 
with  this  reflection,  I  prepared  to  carry  the  news,  such  as  it 
was,  to  the  camp. 

I  caught  my  horse,  and  to  my  vexation  found  he  had  lost  a 
shoe  and  broken  his  tender  white  hoof  against  the  rocks. 
Horses  are  shod  at  Fort  Laramie  at  the  moderate  rate  of  three 
dollars  a  foot ;  so  I  tied  Hendrick  to  a  beam  in  the  corral,  and 
summoned   Roubidou,   the   blacksmith.     Roubidou,  with   the 


THE   WAR   PARTIES.  161 

hoof  between  his  knees,  was  at  work  with  hammer  and  file, 
and  I  was  inspecting  the  process,  when  a  strange  voice  ad- 
dressed me. 

*  Two  more  gone  under  !  Well,  there  is  more  of  us  left 
yet.  Here's  Jean  Gras  and  me  off  to  the  mountains  to-morrow. 
Our  turn  will  come  next,  I  suppose.     It's  a  hard  life,  any  how  !' 

I  looked  up  and  saw  a  little  man,  not  much  more  than  five 
feet  high,  but  of  very  square  and  strong  proportions.  In 
appearance  he  was  particularly  dingy ;  for'  his  old  biickskin 
frock  was  black  and  polished  with  time  and  grease,  and  his 
belt,  knife,  pouch  and  powder-horn  appeared  to  have  seen  the 
roughest  service.  The  first  joint  of  each  foot  was  entirely 
gone,  having  been  frozen  off  several  winters  before,  and  hia 
moccasons  were  curtailed  in  proportion.  His  whole  appear, 
ance  and  equipment  bespoke  the  '  free  trapper.'  He  had  a 
round  ruddy  face,  animated  with  a  spirit  of  carelessness  and 
gayety  no:  at  all  in  accordance  with  the  words  he  had  just 
spoken. 

'  "  Two  more  gone,"  '  said  I ;  '  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ?' 
'  Oh,'  said  he,  '  the  Arapahoes  have  just  killed  two  of  us  in 
the  mountains.  Old  Bull-Tail  has  come  to  tell  us.  They 
stabbed  one  behind  his  back,  and  shot  the  other  with  his  own 
rifle.  That's  the  way  we  live  here !  I  mean  to  give  up 
trapping  after  this  year.  My  squaw  says  she  wants  a  pacing 
horse  and  some  red  ribbons :  I'll  make  enough  beaver  to  get 
them  for  her,  and  then  I'm  done  !  I'll  go  below  and  live  on  a 
farm.' 

'  Your  bones  will  dry  on  the  prairie.  Rouleau  !'  said  another 
trapper,  who  was  standing  by  ;  a  strong,  brutal-looking  fellow, 
with  a  face  as  surly  as  a  bull-dog's. 


162 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


Rouleau  only  laughed,  and  began  to  hum  a  tune  and  shuffle 
a  dance  on  his  stumps  of  feet. 

'  You'll  see  us,  before  long,  passing  up  your  way,'  said  the 
other  man. 

'  Well,'  said  I,  '  stop  and  take  a  cup  of  coffee  with  us ;'  and 
as  it  was  quite  late  in  the  afternoon,  I  prepared  to  leave  the 
fort  at  once. 

As  I  rode  out,  a  train  of  emigrant  wagons  was  passing 
across  the  stream.  '  Whar  are  ye  goin',  stranger?'  Thus  I 
was  saluted  by  two  or  three  voices  at  once. 

'  About  eighteen  miles  up  the  creek.' 

'  It's  mighty  late  to  be  going  that  far  !  Make  haste,  ye'd 
better,  and  keep  a  bright  look-out  for  Indians !' 

I  thought  the  advice  too  crood  to  be  necflected.  Fording  the 
stream,  I  passed  at  a  round  trot  over  the  plains  beyond.  But 
'  the  more  haste,  the  worse  speed.'  I  proved  the  truth  of  the 
proverb  by  the  time  I  reached  the  hills  three  miles  from  the 
fort.  The  trail  was  faintly  marked,  and  riding  forward  with 
more  rapidity  than  caution,  I  lost  sight  of  it.  I  kept  on  in  a 
direct  line  guided  by  Laramie  Creek,  which  I  could  see  at 
intervals  darkly  glistening  in  the  evening  sun,  at  the  bottom  of 
the  woody  gulf  on  my  right.  Half  an  hour  before  sunset  1 
came  upon  its  banks.  There  was  something  exciting  in  the 
wild  solitude  of  the  place.  An  antelope  sprang  suddenly  from 
the  sage-bushes  before  me.  As  he  leaped  gracefully  not  thirty 
yards  before  my  horse,  I  fired,  and  instantly  he  spun  round 
and  fell.  Quite  sure  of  liim,  I  walked  my  horse  toward  him, 
leisurly  re-loading  my  rifle,  when  to  my  surprise  he  sprang  up 
and  trotted  rapidly  away  on  three  legs  into  the  dark  recesses 
of  the  hills,  whither  I  had  no  time  to  follow.     Ten  minutes 


THE   WAR    PARTIES.  163 

after,  1  was  passing  along  the  bottom  of  a  deep  valley,  and 
chancing  to  look  behind  me,  I  saw  in  the  dim  light  that  some- 
thing was  following.  Supposing  it  to  be  a  wolf,  I  slid  from  my 
seat  and  sat  down  behind  my  horse  to  shoot  it ;  but  as  it  came 
up,  I  saw  by  its  motions  that  it  was  another  antelope.  It 
approached  within  a  hundred  yards,  arched  its  graceful  neck, 
and  gazed  intently.  I  levelled  at  the  white  spot  on  its  chest, 
and  was  about  to  fire,  when  it  started  off,  ran  first  to  one  side 
and  then  to  the  other,  like  a  vessel  tacking  against  a  wind,  and 
at  last  stretched  away  at  full  speed.  Then  it  stopped  again, 
looked  curiously  behind  it,  and  trotted  up  as  before ;  but  not  so 
boldly,  for  it  soon  paused  and  stood  gazing  at  me.  I  fired ;  it 
leaped  upward  and  fell  upon  its  tracks.  Measuring  the  dis- 
tance, I  found  it  two  hundred  and  four  paces.  When  I  stood 
by  his  side,  the  antelope  turned  his  expiring  eye  upward.  It 
was  like  a  beautiful  woman's,  dark  and  rich.  '  Fortunate  that 
I  am  in  a  hurry,'  thought  I ;  '  I  might  be  troubled  with  re- 
morse, if  I  had  time  for  it.' 

Cutting  the  animal  up,  not  in  the  most  skilful  manner,  I 
hung  the  meat  at  the  back  of  my  saddle,  and  rode  on  again. 
The  hills  (I  could  not  remember  one  of  them)  closed  around 
me.  '  It  is  too  late,'  thought  I,  '  to  go  forward.  I  will  stay 
here  to-night,  and  look  for  the  path  in  the  morning.'  As  a 
last  effort,  however,  I  ascended  a  high  hill,  from  which,  to  my 
great  satisfaction,  I  could  see  Laramie  Creek  stretching  before 
me,  twisting  from  side  to  side  amid  ragged  patches  of  timber ; 
and  far  off,  close  beneath  the  shadows  of  the  trees,  the  ruins  of 
the  old  trading-fort  were  visible.  I  reached  them  at  twilight. 
It  was  far  from  pleasant,  in  that  uncertain  light,  to  be  pushing 
through  the  dense  trees  and  shrubbery  of  the  grove  beyond. 


161 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


1  listened  anxiously  for  the  foot-fall  of  man  or  bcasv.  Nothing 
was  stirring  but  one  harmless  brown  bird,  chirping  among  the 
branches.  I  was  glad  when  I  gained  the  open  prairie  once 
more,  where  I  could  see  if  any  thing  approached.  When  I 
came  to  the  mouth  of  Chugwater,  it  was  totall}^  dark.  Slack- 
ening the  reins,  I  let  my  horse  take  his  own  course.  He 
trotted  on  with  unerring  instinct,  and  by  nine  o'clock  was 
scrambling  down  the  steep  descent  into  the  meadows  where  we 
were  encamped.  While  I  was  looking  in  vain  for  the  light  of 
the  fire,  Hendrick,  with  keener  perceptions,  gave  a  loud  neigh, 
which  was  immediately  answered  in  a  shrill  note  from  the 
distance.  In  a  moment  I  was  hailed  from  the  darkness  by  the 
voice  of  Reynal,  who  had  come  out,  rifle  in  hand,  to  see  who 
was  approaching. 

He,  with  his  squaw,  the  two  Canadians  and  the  Indian 
boys,  were  the  sole  inmates  of  the  camp,  Shaw  and  Henry 
Chatillon  being  still  absent.  At  noon  of  the  following  day 
they  came  back,  their  horses  looking  none  the  better  for  the 
journey.  Henry  seemed  dejected.  The  woman  was  dead, 
and  his  children  must  henceforward  be  exposed,  without  a 
protector,  to  the  hardships  and  vicissitudes  of  Indian  life. 
Even  in  the  midst  of  his  grief  he  had  not  forgotten  his  attach., 
ment  to  his  hoiirgeois,  for  he  had  procured  among  his  Indian 
relatives  two  beautifully  ornamented  buffalo-robes,  which  he 
spread  on  the  ground  as  a  present  to  us. 

Shaw  lighted  his  pipe,  and  told  me  in  a  few  words  the  his- 
.xDry  of  his  journey.  When  I  went  to  the  fort  they  left  me,  as 
I  mentioned,  at  the  mouth  of  Chugwater.  They  followed  the 
course  of  the  little  stream  all  day,  traversing  a  desolate  and 
barren   country.      Several   times   they  came  upon   the  fresh 


THE    WAR   PARTIES.  165 

traces  of  a  large  war-party,  the  same,  no  doubt,  from  whom 
we  had  so  narrowly  escaped  an  attack.  At  an  hour  before 
sunset,  wiUiout  encountering  a  human  being  by  the  vvay,  they 
came  upon  the  lodges  of  the  squaw  and  her  brothers,  who  in 
compliance  with  Henry's  message,  had  left  the  Indian  village, 
in  order  to  join  us  at  our  camp.  The  lodges  were  already 
pitched,  five  in  number,  by  the  side  of  the  stream.  The 
woman  lay  in  one  of  them,  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton.  For 
some  time  she  had  been  unable  to  move  or  speak.  Indeed, 
nothing  had  kept  her  alive  but  the  hope  of  seeing  Henry,  to 
whom  she  was  strongly  and  faithfully  attached.  No  sooner 
did  he  enter  the  lodge  than  she  revived,  and  conversed  with 
him  the  greater  part  of  the  night.  Early  in  the  morning  she 
was  lifted  into  a  travail,  and  the  whole  party  set  out  toward  our 
camp.  There  were  but  five  warriors  ;  the  rest  were  women 
and  children.  The  whole  were  in  great  alarm  at  the  prox- 
imity of  the  Crow  war-party,  who  would  certainly  have  des- 
troyed them  without  mercy  had  they  met.  They  had  advanced 
only  a  mile  or  two,  when  they  discerned  a  horseman,  far  off,  on 
the  edge  of  the  horizon.  They  all  stopped,  gathering  together 
in  the  greatest  anxiety,  from  which  they  did  not  recover  until 
long  after  the  horseman  disappeared  ;  then  they  set  out  again. 
Henry  was  riding  with  Shaw  a  few  rods  in  advance  of  the  In- 
dians, when  Mahto-Tatonka,  a  younger  brother  of  the  woman, 
hastily  called  after  them.  Turning  back,  they  found  all  the 
Tndians  crowded  around  the  travail  in  which  the  woman  was 
lying.  They  reached  her  just  in  time  to  hear  the  death-rattle 
in  her  throat.  In  a  moment  she  lay  dead  in  the  basket  of  the 
vehicle.  A  complete  stillness  succeeded ;  then  the  Indians 
raised  in  concert  their  cries  of  lamentation  over  the  corpse,  and 


ICG  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

among  tliom  Shaw  clearly  distinguished  those  strange  sounds 
resembling  the  word  '  Halleiuyah,'  wliich  together  with  some 
other  accidental  coincidences,  has  given  rise  to  the  absurd 
theory  that  the  Indians  are  descended  from  the  ten  lost  tribes 
of  Israel. 

The  Indian  usage  required  that  Henry,  as  well  as  the  other 
relatives  of  the  woman,  should  make  valuable  presents,  to  be 
placed  by  the  side  of  the  body  at  its  last  resting-place.  Leaving 
the  Indians,  he  and  Shaw  set  out  for  the  camp  and  reached  it, 
as  we  have  seen,  by  hard  pushing,  at  about  noon.  Having 
obtained  the  necessary  articles,  they  immediately  returned.  It 
was  very  late  and  quite  dark  when  they  again  reached  the 
lodges.  They  were  all  placed  in  a  deep  hollow  among  the 
dreary  hills.  Four  of  them  were  just  visible  through  the  gloom, 
but  the  fifth  and  largest  was  illuminated  by  the  ruddy  blaze  of 
a  fire  within,  glowing  through  the  half-transparent  covering  of 
raw-hides.  There  was  a  perfect  stillness  as  they  approached. 
The  lodges  seemed  without  a  tenant.  Not  a  living  thing  was 
stirring —  there  w^as  something  awful  in  the  scene.  They  rode 
up  to  the  entrance  of  the  lodge,  and  there  was  no  sound  but 
the  tramp  of  their  horses.  A  squaw  came  out  and  took 
charge  of  tlie  animals,  without  speaking  a  word.  Entering, 
they  found  the  lodge  crowded  with  Indians  ;  a  fire  was  burning 
in  the  midst,  and  the  mourners  encircled  it  in  a  triple  row. 
Room  was  made  for  the  new-comers  at  the  head  of  the  lodge,  a 
robe  spread  for  them  to  sit  upon,  and  a  pipe  lighted  and  handed 
to  them  in  perfect  silence.  Thus  they  passed  the  greater  part 
of  the  night.  At  times  the  fire  would  subside  into  a  heap  of 
embers,  until  the  dark  figures  seated  around  it  were  scarcely 
visible ;  then  a  squaw  would  drop  upon  it  a  piece  of  buffalo-fat, 


THE    WAR    PARTIES. 


167 


and  a  briglit  flame  instantly  springing  up,  would  reveal  on  a  sud- 
den the  crowd  of  vvild  faces,  motionless  as  bronze.  The  silence 
continued  unbroken.  It  was  a  relief  to  Shaw  when  daylight 
returned  and  he  could  escape  from  this  house  of  mourning.  He 
and  Henry  prepared  to  return  homeward ;  first,  however,  they 
placed  the  presents  they  had  brought  near  the  body  of  the 
squaw,  which,  most  gaudily  attired,  remained  in  a  sitting  pos- 
ture in  one  of  the  lodges.  A  fine  horse  was  picketed  not  far 
off,  destined  to  be  killed  that  morning  for  the  service  of  her 
spirit,  for  the  woman  was  lame,  and  could  not  travel  on  foot  over 
the  dismal  prairies  to  the  villages  of  the  dead.  Food,  too,  was 
provided,  and  household  implements,  for  her  use  upon  this  last 
journey. 

Henry  left  her  to  the  care  of  her  relatives,  and  came  imme- 
diately with  Shaw  to  the  camp.  It  was  some  time  before  he 
entirely  recovered  from  his  dejection. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

SCENES     AT     THE     CAMP. 

'  Fierce  are  Albania's  children  ;  yet  they  lack 

Not  virtues,  were  those  virtues  more  mature ', 
Where  is  the  foe  that  ever  saw  their  back  1 
Who  can  so  well  the  toil  of  war  endure  V 


Childk  IIaKold. 


Reynal  heard  guns  fired  one  day,  at  the  distance  of  a  mile 
or  two  from  the  camp.  He  grew  nervous  instantly.  Visions 
of  Crow  war-parties  began  to  haunt  his  imagination  ;  and  when 
we  returned,  (for  we  were  all  absent,)  he  renewed  his  com- 
plaints about  being  left  alone  with  the  Canadians  and  tlie  squaw. 
The  day  after,  the  cause  of  the  alarm  appeared.  Four  trappers, 
one  called  Moran,  anotner  Saraphin,  and  the  others  nicknamed 
'  Rouicau'  and  'Jean  Gras,'  came  to  our  camp  and  joined  us. 
They  it  was  who  fired  the  guns  and  disturbed  the  dreams  of  our 
confederate  Reynal.  They  soon  encamped  by  our  side.  Their 
rifles,  dingy  and  battered  with  hard  service,  rested  with  ours 
against  the  old  tree ;  their  strong  rude  saddles,  their  buffalo- robes, 
their  traps,  and  the  ^ew  rough  and  simple  articles  of  their  travel- 
ling equipment,  were  piled  near  our  tent.    Their  mountain-horses 


SCENES   AT   THE    CAMP. 


169 


were  turned  to  graze  in  the  meadow  among  bur  own ;  and  the 
men  themselves,  no  less  rough  and  hardy,  used  to  lie  half  the 
day  in  the  shade  of  our  tree,  lolling  on  the  grass,  lazily  smoking, 
and  telling  st6ries  of  their  adventures  ;  and  I  defy  the  annals  of 
chivalry  to  furnish  the  record  of  a  life  more  wild  and  perilou3 
than  that  of  a  Rocky  Mountain  trapper. 

With  this  efficient  reinforcement  the  agitation  of  Reynal's 
nerves  subsided.  He  began  to  conceive  a  sort  of  attachment  to 
our  old  camping  ground ;  yet  it  was  time  to  change  our 
quarters,  since  remaining  too  long  on  one  spot  must  lead  to 
certain  unpleasant  results,  not  to  be  borne  with  unless  in  a  case 
of  dire  necessity.  The  grass  no  longer  presented  a  smooth 
surface  of  turf;  it  was  trampled  into  mud  and  clay.  So  we 
removed  to  another  old  tree,  larger  yet,  that  grew  by  the  river 
side  at  a  furlong's  distance.  Its  trunk  was  full  six  feet  in 
diameter  ;  on  one  side  it  was  marked  by  a  party  of  Indians  with 
various  inexplicable  hieroglyphics,  commemorating  some  war- 
like enterprise,  and  aloft  among  the  branches  were  the  remains 
of  a  scaffolding,  whez'e  dead  bodies  had  once  been  deposited, 
after  the  Indian  manner. 

*  There  comes  Bull-Bear,'  said  Henry  Chatillon,  as  we  sat 
on  the  grass  at  dinner.  Looking  up,  we  saw  several  horsemen 
coming  over  the  neighboring  hill,  and  in  a  moment  four  stately 
young  men  rode  up  and  dismounted.  One  of  them  was  Bull- 
Bear,  or  IMahto-Tatonka,  a  compound  name  which  he  inherited 
from  his  father,  the  most  powerful  chief  in  the  Ogillallah  band. 
One  of  his  brothers  and  two  other  young  men  accompanied 
him.  We  shook  hands  with  the  visitors,  and  when  we  had 
finished  our  meal  —  for  this  is  the  orthodox  manner  of  enter- 
taining  Indians,  even  the  best  of  them  —  we  handed  to  each  a 

8 


170  THE    CALIFORNJA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

tin  cup  of  cofTco  and  a  biscuit,  at  whicli  they  ejaculated  from 
the  bottom  of  their  throats,  '  How !  how !'  a  monosyllable  by 
which  an  Indian  contrives  to  express  half  the  emotions  that  he  is 
susceptible  of.  Then  we  lighted  the  pipe,  and  passed  it  to  them 
as  they  squatted  on  the  ground. 

'  Where  is  the  village  V 

'  There,'  said  Mahto-Tatonka,  pointing  southward  ;  <  it  will 
come  in  two  days.' 

'  Will  they  go  to  the  war  V 

'  Yes.' 

No  man  is  a  philanthropist  on  the  prairie.  We  welcomed 
this  news  most  cordially,  and  congratulated  ourselves  that 
Bordeaux's  interested  efforts  to  divert  the  Whirlwind  from  his 
congenial  vocation  of  bloodshed  had  failed  of  success,  and  that 
no  additional  obstacles  would  interpose  between  us,  and  our 
plan  of  repairing  to  the  rendezvous  at  La  Bonte's  Camp. 

For  that  and  several  succeeding  days,  Mahto-Tatonka  and 
his  friends  remained  our  guests.  They  devoured  the  relics 
of  our  meals  j  they  filled  the  pipe  for  us,  and  also  helped  us  to 
.smoke  it.  Sometimes  they  stretched  themselves  side  by  side 
in  the  shade,  indulging  in  raillery  and  practical  jokes,  ill 
becoming  the  dignity  of  brave  and  aspiring  warriors,  such  as 
two  of  them  in  reality  were. 

Two  days  dragged  away,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  third 
we  hoped  confidently  to  see  the  Indian  village.  It  did  not 
come  ;  so  we  rode  out  to  look  for  it.  In  place  of  the  eight 
hundred  Indians  we  expected,  we  met  one  solitary  savage 
riding  toward  us  over  the  prairie,  who  told  us  that  the  Indians 
had  charged  their  plan,  and  would  not  come  within  three  days ; 
still   he  persisted  that  they  were  going  to  the  war.     Taking 


SCENES    AT    THE    CAMP.  171 

along  with  us  this  messenger  of  evil  tidings>«we«  retraced  our 
footsteps  to  the  camp,  amusing  ourselves  by  tile  wky  with  ex- 
ecrating Indian  inconstancy.  When  we  came  in  sight  of  our 
little  white  tent  under  the  big  tree,  we  saw  that  it  no  longer 
stood  alone.  A  huge  old  lodge  was  erected  close  by  its  side, 
discolored  by  rain  and  storms,  rotten  with  age,  with  the 
uncouth  figures  of  horses  and  men,  and  outstretched  hands 
that  were  painted  upon  it,  well  nigh  obliterated.  The  long 
poles  which  supported  this  squalid  haUtation  thrust  themselves 
rakishly  out  from  its  pointed^topJ^^Bpaver  its  entrance  were 
suspended  a  '  medicine-jiipe'  and  various  other  implements  of 
the  magic  art.  While  we  were  yet  at  a  distance,  we  observed 
a  greatly  increased  population  of  various  colors  and  dimen- 
sions, swarmilig  around  our  quiet  encampment.  Moran,  the 
trapper,  having  been  absent  for  a  day  or  two,  had  returned,  it 
seemed,  bringing  all  his  family  Avith  him.  He  had  taken  to 
himself  a  v/ife,  for  whom  ho  had  paid  the  established  price  of 
one  horse.  This  looks  cheap  at  first  sight,  but  in  truth  the 
purchase  of  a  squaw  is  a  transaction  which  no  man  should 

enter  into  without  mature  deliberation,  since  it  involves   not 

\ 
only  the  payment  of  the  first  price,  but  the  formidable  burden 

of  feeding  and  supporting  a  rapacious  horde  of  the  bride's  rela- 
tives, who  hold  themselves  entitled  to  feed  upon  the  indiscreet 
white  man.  They  gather  round  like  leeches,  and  drain  him 
of  all  he  has. 

Moran,  like  Reynal,  had  not  allied  himself  to  an  aristocratic 
circle.  His  relatives  occupied  but  a  contemptible  position  in 
Ogillallah  society ;  for  among  these  wild  democrats  of  the 
prairie,  as  among  us,  there  are  virtual  distinctions  of  rank  and 
place  ;  though  this  great  advantage  they  have  over  us,  that 


172  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

vcaltli  lias  no  part  in  determining  such  distinctions.  Moran's 
partner  was  not  the  most  beautiful  of  her  sex,  and  lie  had  the 
exceedingl}^  bad  taste  ,o  array  her  in  an  old  calico  gown, 
bought  from  an  emigrant  woman,  instead  of  the  neat  and 
graceful  tunic  of  whitened  deer-skin  worn  ordinarily  by  the 
squaws.  The  moving  spirit  of  the  establishment,  in  more 
senses  than  one,  was  a  hideous  old  hag  of  eighty.  Human 
imagination  never  conceived  hobgoblin  or  witch  more  ugly  than 
she.  You  could  count  all  her  ribs  through  the  wrinkles  of  the 
leathery  skin  that  covered  them.  Her  withered  face  more 
resembled  an  old  skull  than  the  countenance  of  a  living  being, 
even  to  the  hollow,  darkened  sockets,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
glittered  her  little  black  eyes.  Her  arms  had  dwindled  away 
into  nothing  but  whip-cord  and  wire.  Her  hftir,  half  black, 
half  gray,  hung  in  total  neglect  nearly  to  the  ground,  and  her 
sole  garment  consisted  of  the  remnant  of  a  discarded  buffalo- 
robe  tied  round  her  waist  with  a  string  of  hide.  Yet  the  old 
squaw's  meagre  anatomy  was  wonderfully  strong.  She  pitched 
the  lodge,  packed  the  horses,  and  did  the  hardest  labor  of  the 
camp.  From  morning  till  night  she  bustled  about  the  lodge, 
screaming  like  a  screech-owl  when  any  thing  displeased  her. 
Then  there  was  her  brothei',  a  '  medicine-man,'  or  magician, 
equally  gaunt  and  sinewy  with  herself.  His  mouth  spread 
from  ear  to  ear,  and  his  appetite,  as  we  had  full  occasion  to 
learn,  was  ravenous  in  proportion.  The  other  inmates  of  the 
lodge  were  a  young  bride  and  bridegroom  ;  the  latter  one  of 
those  idle,  good-for-nothing  fellows  who  infest  an  Indian  village 
as  well  as  more  civilized  communities.  He  was  fit  neither  for 
hunting  nor  for  war ;  and  one  might  infer  as  much  from  the 
stolid  unmeaning  expression  of  his  face.     The  happy  pair  had 


SCENES   AT   THE    CAMP.  17S 

just  entered  upon  the  honeymoon.  They  would  stretch  a 
bufFalo-robe  upon  poles,  so  as  to  protect  them  from  the  fierce 
rays  of  the  sun,  and  spreading  beneath  this  rough  canopy  a 
luxuriant  couch  of  furs,  would  sit  affectionately  side  by  side 
for  half  the  day,  though  I  could  not  discover  that  much  con- 
versation passed  between  them.  Probably  they  had  nothing  to 
say  ;  for  an  Indian's  supply  of  topics  for  conversation  is  far 
from  being  copious.  There  were  half  a  dozen  children,  too, 
playing  and  whooping  about  the  camp,  shooting  birds  with  little 
bows  and  arrows,  or  making  miniature  lodges  of  sticks,  as 
children  of  a  different  complexion  build  houses  of  blocks. 

A  day  passed,  and  Indians  began  rapidly  to  come  in. 
Parties  of  two  or  three  or  more  would  ride  up  and  silently  seat 
themselves  on  the  grass.  The  fourth  day  came  at  last,  when 
about  noon  horsemen  suddenly  appeared  into  view  on  the 
summit  of  the  neighboring  ridge.  They  descended,  and  behind 
them  followed  a  wild  procession,  hurrying  in  haste  and  disorder 
down  the  hill  and  over  the  plain  below  ;  horses,  mules,  and 
dogs,  heavily-burdened  iravaux,  mounted  warriors,  squaws 
walking  amid  the  throng,  and  a  host  of  children.  For  a  full 
half-hour  they  continued  to  pour  down  ;  and  keeping  directly 
to  the  bend  of  the  stream,  within  a  furlong  of  us,  they  soon 
assembled  there,  a  dark  and  confused  throng,  until,  as  if  by 
magic,  a  hundred  and  fifty  tall  lodges  sprung  up.  On  a  sudden 
the  lonely  plain  was  transformed  into  the  site  of  a  miniature 
city.  Countless  horses  were  soon  grazing  over  the  meadows 
around  us,  and  the  whole  prairie  was  animated  by  restless 
figures  careering  on  horseback,  or  sedately  stalking  in  their 
long  white  robes.  The  Whirlwind  was  come  at  last !  One 
question    yet   remained    to   be   answered :    *  Will    he   go  to 


12 


174  THE   CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

the  war,  in  order  that  we,  with  so  respectable  an  escort,  may 
pass  over  to  the  somewhat  perilous  rendezvous  at  La  Bonte's 
camp  ?' 

Still  this  remained  in  doubt.  Characteristic  indecision 
perplexed  their  councils.  Indians  cannot  act  in  large  bodies. 
Though  their  object  be  of  the  highest  im.portance,  they  cannot 
combine  to  attain  it  by  a  series  of  oonnected  efforts.  King 
Philip,  Pontiac,  and  Tecumseh,  all  felt  this  to  their  cost.  The 
Ogillallah  once  had  a  war-chief  who  could  control  them ;  but 
he  was  dead,  and  now  they  were  left  to  the  sway  of  their  own 
unsteady  impulses. 

This  Indian  village  and  its  inhabitants  will  hold  a  promi- 
nent  place  in  the  rest  of  the  narrative,  and  perhaps  it  may  not 
be  amiss  to  glance  for  an  instant  at  the  savage  people  of  which 
they  form  a  part.  The  Dahcotah  (I  prefer  this  national  desig- 
nation to  the  unmeaning  French  name,  Sioux)  range  over  a 
vast  territory,  from  the  river  St.  Peter's  to  the  Rocky  Mountains 
themselves.  They  are  divided  into  several  independent  bands, 
united  under  no  central  government,  and  acknowledging  no 
common  head.  The  same  language,  usages,  and  superstitions, 
form  the  sole  bond  between  them.  They  do  not  unite  even  in 
their  wars.  The  bands  of  the  east  fight  the  Objibwas  on  the 
Upper  Lakes  ;  those  of  the  west  make  incessant  war  upon  the 
Snake  Indians  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  As  the  whole  people 
is  divided  into  bands,  so  each  band  is  divided  into  villages. 
Each  village  has  a  chief,  who  is  honored  and  obeyed  only  so 
far  as  his  personal  qualities  may  command  respect  and  fear. 
Sometimes  he  is  a  mere  nominal  chief;  sometimes  his  authority 
is  little  short  of  absolute,  and  his  fame  and  influence  reach  even 
beyond  his  own  vJlage ;    so  that  the  whole  band  to  which  he 


SCENES  AT  7HE  CAMP.  176 

belongs  is  ready  to  acknowledge  him  as  their  head.  This  was, 
a  few  years  since,  the  case  with  the  Ogillallah.  Courage, 
address,  and  enterprise  may  raise  anv  warrior  to  the  highest 
honor,  especially  if  he  be  the  son  of  a  former  chief,  or  a  mem- 
ber of  a  numerous  family,  to  support  him  and  avenge  his  quar- 
rels ;  but  when  he  has  reached  the  dignity  of  chief,  and  the 
old  men  and  warriors,  by  a  peculiar  ceremony,  have  formally 
installed  him,  let  it  not  be  imagined  that  he  assumes  any  of  the 
outward  semblances  of  rank  and  honor.  He  knows  too  well  on 
how  frail  a  tenure  he  holds  his  station.  He  must  conciliate  his 
uncertain  subjects.  Many  a  man  in  the  village  lives  better, 
owns  more  squaws  and  more  horses,  and  goes  better  clad  than 
he.  Like  the  Teutonic  chiefs  of  old,  he  ingratiates  himself 
with  his  young  men  by  making  them  presents,  thereby  often 
impoverishing  himself.  Does  he  fail  in  gaining  their  favor, 
they  will  set  his  authority  at  naught,  and  may  desert  him  at 
any  moment ;  for  the  usages  of  his  people  have  provided  no 
sanctions  by  which  he  may  enforce  his  authority.  Very  sel- 
dom  does  it  happen,  at  least  among  these  western  bands,  that  a 
chief  attains  to  much  power,  unless  he  is  the  head  of  a  numer- 
ous family.  Frequently  the  village  is  principally  made  up  of 
his  relatives  and  descendants,  and  the  wandering  community 
assumes  much  of  the  patriarchal  character.  A  people  so 
loosely  united,  torn,  too,  with  rankling  feuds  and  jealousies,  can 
have  little  power  or  efficiency. 

The  western  Dahcotah  have  no  fixed  habitations.  Hunting 
and  fighting,  they  wander  incessantly,  through  summer  and 
winter.  Some  are  following  the  herds  of  buffalo  over  the  waste 
of  prairie  ;  others  are  traversing  the  Black  Hills,  thronging,  on 
horseback  and  on  foot,  through  the  dark  gulfs  and  sombre  gor. 


170  THE    CALIFOUNIA    AND    OREGON    TRiilL. 

ges,  beneath  the  vast  sj)lintenng  precipices,  and  emerging  at 
last  upon  tlie  *  Parks,'  those  beautiful  but  most  perilous  hunting- 
grounds.  The  bufTalo  supplies  thcui  with  almost  all  the  neces- 
saries of  life  ;  with  habitations,  food,  clothing,  and  fuel ;  with 
strings  for  their  bows,  with  thread,  cordage,  and  trailropes  for 
their  horses,  with  coverings  for  their  saddles,  with  vessels  to 
hold  water,  with  boats  to  cross  streams,  with  glue,  and  with  the 
means  of  purchasing  all  that  they  desire  from  the  traders. 
When  the  buffalo  are  extinct,  they  too  must  dwindle  away. 

War  is  the  breath  of  their  nostrils.  Against  most  of  the 
neighboring  tribes  they  cherish  a  deadly,  rancorous  hatred, 
transmitted  from  father  to  son,  and  inflamed  by  constant  aggres- 
sion and  retaliation.  Many  times  a  year,  in  every  v-illage,  the 
Great  Spirit  is  called  upon,  fasts  are  made,  the  war-parade  is 
celebrated,  and  the  warriors  go  out  by  handfuls  at  a  time  against 
the  enemy.  This  fierce  and  evil  spirit  awakens  their  most 
eager  aspirations,  and  calls  forth  their  greatest  energies.  It  is 
chiefly  this  that  saves  them  from  lethargy  and  utter  abasement. 
Without  its  powerful  stimulus  they  would  be  like  tlie  unwarlike 
tribes  beyond  the  mountains,  who  are  scattered  among  the  caves 
and  rocks  like  beasts,  living  on  roots  and  reptiles.  These  latter 
have  little  of  humanity  except  the  form ;  but  the  proud  and 
ambitious  Dahcotah  warrior  can  sometimes  boast  of  heroic  vir- 
tues. It  is  very  seldom  that  distinction  and  influence  are 
attained  among  them  by  any  other  course  than  that  of  arms. 
Their  superstition,  however,  sometimes  gives  great  power  to 
those  among  them  who  pretend  to  the  character  of  magicians. 
Their  wild  hearts,  too,  oan  feel  the  power  of  oratory,  and  yield 
deference  to  the  masters  of  it. 

But  to  return.     Look  into  our  tent,  or  enter,  if  you  can  bear 


SCENES    AT   THE   CAMP.  1T7 

the  stifling  smoke  and  the  close  atmosphere.  There,  wedged 
close  together,  you  will  see  a  circle  of  stout  warriors,  passing 
the  pipe  around,  joking,  telling  stories,  and  making  themselves 
merry,  after  their  fashion.  We  were  also  infested  by  little 
copper-colored  naked  boys  and  snake-eyed  girls.  They  would 
come  up  to  us,  muttering  certain  words,  which  being  interpreted 
conveyed  the  concise  invitation,  '  Come  and  eat.'  Then  we 
would  rise,  cursing  the  pertinacity  of  Dahcotah  hospitality, 
which  allowed  scarcely  an  hour  of  rest  between  sun  and  sun, 
and  to  which  we  were  bound  to  do  honor,  unless  we  would 
offend  our  entertainers.  This  necessity  was  particularly  bur- 
densome to  me,  as  I  was  scarcely  able  to  walk,  from  the  effects 
of  illness,  and  was  of  course  poorly  qualified  to  dispose  of 
twenty  meals  a  day.  Of  these  sumptuous  banquets,  I  gave  a 
specimen  in  a  former  chapter,  where  the  tragical  fate  of  the  little 
dog  was  chronicled.  So  bounteous  an  entertainment  looks  like 
an  outgushing  of  good-will ;  but  doubtless  one  half  at  least  of 
our  kind  hosts,  had  they  met  us  alone  and  unarmed  on  the 
prairie,  would  have  robbed  us  of  our  horses,  and  perchance 
have  bestowed  an  arrow  upon  us  beside.  Trust  not  an  Indian. 
Let  your  rifle  be  ever  in  your  hand.  Wear  next  your  heart 
the  old  chivalric  motto,  '  Semper  Paratus.' 

One  morning  we  were  summoned  to  the  lodge  of  an  old 
man,  in  good  truth  the  Nestor  of  his  tribe.  We  found  him  half 
sitting,  half  reclining  on  a  jjile  of  buffalo-robes ;  his  long  hair, 
jet-black  even  now,  though  he  had  seen  some  eighty  winters, 
hnng  on  either  side  of  his  thin  features.  Those  most  conversant 
with  Indians  in  their  homes  will  scarcely  believe  me  when  I  af. 
firm  that  there  was  dignity  in  his  countenance  and  mien.  His 
gaunt  but  symmetrical  frame  did  not  more  clearly  exhibit  the 


173  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

wreck  of  by-gone  strength,  than  did  his  dark,  wasted  features, 
still  prominent  and  commanding,  bear  the  stamp  of  mental 
energies.  I  recalled,  as  I  saw  him,  the  eloquent  metaphor  of 
the  Iroquois  sachem :  '  I  am  an  aged  hemlock  ;  the  winds  of  an 
hundred  winters  have  whistled  through  my  branches,  and  I  am 
dead  at  the  top !'  Opposite  the  patriarch  was  his  nephew,  the 
young  aspirant  Mahto-Tatonka ;  and  beside  these,  there  were 
one  or  two  women  in  the  lodge. 

The  old  man's  story  is  peculiar,  and  singularly  illustrative 
of  a  superstitious  custom  that  prevails  in  full  force  among  many 
of  the  Indian  tribes.  He  was  one  of  a  powerful  family,  re- 
nowned for  their  warlike  exploits.  When  a  very  young  man, 
he  submitted  to  the  singular  rite  to  which  most  of  the  tribe  sub- 
ject themselves  before  entering  upon  life.  He  painted  his  face 
black  ;  then  seeking  out  a  cavern  in  a  sequestered  part  of  the 
Black  Hills,  he  lay  for  several  days,  fasting,  and  praying  to  the 
Great  Spirit.  In  the  dreams  and  visions  produced  by  his  weak- 
ened and  excited  state,  he  fancied,  like  all  Indians,  that  he  saw 
supernatural  revelations.  Again  and  again  the  form  of  an 
antelope  appeared  before  him.  The  antelope  is  the  graceful 
peace-spirit  of  the  Ogillallah  ;  but  seldom  is  it  that  such  a  gen- 
tle visitor  presents  itself  during  the  initiatory  fasts  of  their 
young  men.  The  terrible  grizzly  bear,  the  divinity  of  war, 
usually  appears  to  fire  them  with  martial  ardor  and  thirst  for 
renown.  At  length  the  antelope  spoke.  He  told  the  young 
dreamer  that  he  was  not  to  follow  the  path  of  war  ;  that  a  life 
of  peace  and  tranquillity  was  marked  out  for  him  ;  that  thence- 
forward he  was  to  guide  the  people  by  his  counsels,  and  protect 
them  from  the  evils  of  tfieir  own  feuds  and  dissensions.     Others 


SCENES   AT   THE    CAMP.  179 

were  to  gain  renown  by  fighting  the  enemy ;  but  greatness  of 
a  different  kind  was  in  store  for  him. 

The  visions  beheld  during  the  period  of  this  fast  usually 
determine  the  whole  course  of  the  dreamer's  life,  for  an  Indian 
is  bound  by  iron  superstitions.  From  that  time,  Le  Borgne, 
which  was  the  only  name  by  which  we  knew  him,  abandoned 
all  thoughts  of  war,  and  devoted  himself  to  the  labors  of  peace. 
He  told  his  vision  to  the  people.  They  honored  his  commission 
and  respected  him  in  his  novel  capacity. 

A  far  different  man  was  his  brother,  Mahto-Tatonka,  who 
had  transmitted  his  names,  his  features,  and  many  of  his  char- 
acteristic qualities,  to  his  son.  He  was  the  father  of  Henry 
Chatillon's  squaw,  a  circumstance  which  proved  of  some 
advantage  to  us,  as  securing  for  us  the  friendship  of  a  family 
perhaps  the  most  distinguished  and  powerful  in  the  whole  Ogil- 
lallah  band.  Mahto-Tatonka,  in  his  rude  way,  was  a  hero. 
No  chief  could  vie  with  him  in  warlike  renown,  or  in  power 
over  his  people.  He  had  a  fearless  spirit,  and  a  most  impetuous 
and  inflexible  resolution.  His  will  was  law.  He  was  politic 
and  sagacious,  and  with  true  Indian  craft  he  always  befriended 
the  whites,  well  knowing  that  he  might  thus  reap  great  advan- 
tages for  himself  and  his  adherents.  When  he  had  resolved 
on  any  course  of  conduct,  he  would  pay  to  the  warriors  the 
empty  compliment  of  calling  them  together  to  deliberate  upon 
it,  and  when  their  debates  were  over,  he  would  quietly  state  his 
own  opinion,  which  no  one  ever  disputed.  The  consequences 
of  thwarting  his  imperious  will  were  too  formidable  to  be 
encountered.  Wo  to  those  who  incurred  his  displeasure  !  He 
would  strike  them  or  stab  them  on  the  spot;  and  this  act, 
which  if  attempted  by  any  other  chief  would  instantly  have 


190  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

cost  him  his  lifo,  the  awe  inspired  by  liis  name  enabled  him  to 
repeat  again  and  again  with  impunity.  In  a  community 
where,  from  immemorial  time,  no  man  has  acknowledged  any 
law  but  his  own  will,  Mahto-Tatonka,  by  the  force  of  his 
dauntless  resolution,  raised  himself  to  power  little  short  of 
despotic.  His  haughty  career  came  at  last  to  an  end.  He 
had  a  host  of  enemies  only  waiting  for  their  opportunity  of 
revenge,  and  our  old  friend  Smoke,  in  particular,  together  with 
all  his  kinsmen,  hated  him  most  cordially.  Smoke  sat  one  day 
in  his  lodge,  in  the  midst  of  his  own  village,  when  Mahto-Ta- 
tonka entered  it  alone,  and  approaching  the  dwelling  of  his 
enemy,  called  on  him  in  a  loud  voice  to  come  out,  if  he  were  a 
man,  and  fight.  Smoke  would  not  move.  At  this,  Mahto-Ta- 
tonka proclaimed  him  a  coward  and  an  old  woman,  and  striding 
close  to  the  entrance  of  the  lodge,  stabbed  the  chief's  best 
horse,  which  was  picketed  there.  Smoke  was  daunted,  and 
even  this  insult  failed  to  call  him  forth.  Mahto-Tatonka  moved 
haughtily  away ;  all  made  way  for  him,  but  his  hour  of  reck- 
oning  was  near. 

One  hot  day,  five  or  six  years  ago,  numerous  lodges  of 
Smoke's  kinsmen  were  gathered  around  some  of  the  Fur  Com- 
pany's  men,  who  were  trading  in  various  articles  with  them, 
Iv'hisky  among  the  rest.  Mahto-Tatonka  was  also  there  with 
a  few  of  his  people.  As  he  lay  in  his  own  lodge,  a  fray  arose 
between  his  adherents  and  the  kinsmen  of  his  enemy.  The 
war-whoop  was  raised,  bullets  and  arrows  began  to  fly,  and  the 
camp  was  in  confusion.  The  chief  sprang  up,  and  rushing  iq 
a  fury  from  the  lodge,  shouted  to  the  combatants  on  both  sides 
to  cease.  Instantly  —  for  the  attack  was  preconcerted  —  came 
the  reports  of  two  or  three  guns,  and  the  twanging  of  a  dozen 


SCENES    AT   THE    CAMP.  181 

bows,  and  the  savage  hero,  mortally  wounded,  pitched  forward 
headlong  to  the  ground.  Rouleau  was  present,  and  told  me  the 
particulars.  The  tumult  became  general,  and  was  not  quelled 
until  several  had  fallen  on  both  sides.  When  we  were  in  the 
country  the  feud  between  the  two  families  was  still  rankling, 
and  not  likely  soon  to  cease. 

Thus  died  Mahto-Tatonka,  but  he  left  behind  him  a  goodly 
army  of  descendants,  to  perpetuate  his  renown  and  avenge  his 
fate.  Besides  daughters,  he  had  thirty  sons,  a  number  which 
need  not  stagger  the  credulity  of  those  who  are  best  acquainted 
with  Indian  usages  and  practices.  We  saw  many  of  them,  all 
marked  by  the  same  dark  complexion,  and  the  same  peculiar 
cast  of  features.  Of  these,  our  visitor,  young  Mahto-Tatonka, 
was  the  eldest,  and  some  reported  him  as  likely  to  succeed  to 
his  father's  honors.  Though  he  appeared  not  more  than  twen- 
ty-one years  old,  he  had  oftener  struck  the  enemy,  and  stolen 
more  horses  and  more  squaws  than  any  young  man  in  the  vil- 
lage. We  of  the  civilized  world  are  not  apt  to  attach  much 
credit  to  the  latter  species  of  exploits  ;  but  horse-stealing  is  well 
known  as  an  avenue  to  distinction  on  the  prairies,  and  the  other 
kind  of  depredation  is  esteemed  equally  meritorious.  Not  that 
the  act  can  confer  fame  from  its  own  intrinsic  merits.  Any 
one  can  steal  a  squaw,  and  if  he  chooses  afterward  to  make  an 
adequate  present  to  her  rightful  proprietor,  the  easy  husband 
for  the  most  part  rests  content,  his  vengeance  falls  asleep,  and 
all  danger  from  that  quarter  is  averted.  Yet  this  is  esteemed 
but  a  pitiful  and  mean-spirited  transaction.  The  danger  is 
averted,  but  the  glory  of  the  achievement  also  is  lost.  Mahto- 
Tatonka  proceeded  after  a  more  gallant  and  dashing  fashion. 
Out  of  several  dozen  squaws  whom  he  had  stolen,  he  could 


r 


182  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

boast  that  he  had  never  paid  for  one,  but  snapping  his  fingers  in 
the  face  of  the  injured  husband,  had  defied  the  extremity  of  his 
indignation,  and  no  one  yet  had  dared  to  lay  the  finger  of  vio- 
lence upon  him.  He  was  following  close  in  the  footsteps  of  his 
father.  The  young  men  and  the  young  squaws,  each  in  their 
way,  admired  him.  The  one  would  always  follow  him  to  war, 
and  he  was  esteemed  to  have  an  unrivalled  charm  in  the  eyes 
of  the  other.  Perhaps  his  impunity  may  excite  some  wonder. 
An  arrow  shot  from  a  ravine,  a  stab  given  in  the  dark,  require 
no  great  valor,  and  are  especially  suited  to  the  Indian  genius ; 
but  Mahto-Tatonka  had  a  strong  protection.  It  was  not  alone 
his  courage  and  audacious  will  that  enabled  him  to  career  so 
dashingly  among  his  compeers.  His  enemies  did  not  forget 
that  he  was  one  of  thirty  warlike  brethren,  all  growing  up  to 
manhood.  Should  they  wreak  their  anger  upon  him,  many 
keen  eyes  would  be  ever  upon  them,  many  fierce  hearts  would 
thirst  for  their  blood.  The  avenger  would  dog  their  footsteps 
every  where.  To  kill  Mahto-Tatonka  would  be  no  better  than 
an  act  of  suicide. 

Though  he  found  such  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  fair,  he  was 
no  dandy.  As  among  us,  those  of  highest  worth  and  breeding 
are  most  simple  in  manner  and  attire,  so  our  aspiring  young 
friend  was  indifferent  to  the  gaudy  trappings  and  ornaments  ot 
his  companions.  He  was  content  to  rest  his  chances  of  success 
upon  his  own  warlike  merits.  He  never  arrayed  himself  in 
gaudy  blanket  and  glittering  necklaces,  but  left  his  statue-like 
form  limbed  like  an  Apollo  of  bronze,  to  win  its  way  to  favor. 
His  voice  was  singularly  deep  and  strong.  It  sounded  from  his 
chest  like  the  deep  notes  of  an  organ.  Yet  after  all,  he  was 
but  an  Indian.     See  him  as  he  lies  there  in  the  sun  before  lUt 


SCENES   AT   THE   CAMP.  188 

tent,  kicking  his  heels  in  the  air  and  cracking  jokes  with  his 
brother.  Does  he  look  like  a  hero  ?  See  him  now  in  the  hour 
of  his  glory,  when  at  sunset  the  whole  village  empties  itself  to 
behold  him,  for  to-morrow  their  favorite  young  partisan  goes 
out  against  the  enemy.  His  superb  head-dress  is  adorned  with 
a  crest  of  the  war-eagle's  feathers,  rising  in  a  waving  ridge 
above  his  brow,  and  sweeping  far  behind  him.  His  round 
white  shield  hangs  at  his  breast,  with  feathers  radiating  from 
the  centre  like  a  star.  His  quiver  is  at  his  back  ;  his  tall 
lance  in  his  hand,  the  iron  point  flashing  against  the  declining 
sun,  while  the  long  scalp-locks  of  his  enemies  flutter  from  the 
shaft.  Thus,  gorgeous  as  a  champion  in  his  panoply,  he  rides 
round  and  round  within  the  great  circle  of  lodges,  balancing 
with  a  graceful  buoyancy  to  the  free  movements  of  his  war- 
horse,  while  with  a  sedate  brow  he  sings  his  song  to  the  Great 
Spirit.  Young  rival  warriors  look  askance  at  him  ;  vermilion- 
cheeked  girls  gaze  in  admiration,  boys  whoop  and  scream  in  a 
thrill  of  delight,  and  old  women  yell  forth  his  name  and 
proclaim  his  praises  from  lodge  to  lodge. 

Mahto-Tatonka,  to  come  back  to  him,  was  the  best  of  all  our 
Indian  friends.  Hour  after  hour  and  day  after  day,  when 
swarms  of  savages  of  every  age,  sex  and  degree,  beset  our 
camp,  he  would  lie  in  our  tent,  his  lynx-eye  ever  open  to  guard 
our  property  from  pillage. 

The  Whirlwind  invited  us  one  day  to  his  lodge.  The  feast 
was  finished  and  the  pipe  began  to  circulate.  It  was  a  remark- 
ably large  and  fine  one,  and  I  expressed  my  admiration  of  its 
form  and  dimensions. 

*  If  the  Meneaska  likes  the  pipe,'  asked  the  Whirlwind, 
'  why  does  he  not  keep  it  ?' 


184  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

Such  a  pipe  among  the  Ogillallah  is  valued  at  the  price  of 
a  horse.  A  princely  gift,  thinks  the  reader,  and  worthy  of  a 
chieftain  and  a  warrior.  The  Whirlwind's  generosity  rose  to 
no  such  pitch.  He  gave  me  the  pipe,  confidently  expecting 
that  I  in  return  should  make  him  a  present  of  equal  or  superior 
value.  This  is  the  implied  condition  of  every  gift  among  the 
Indians  as  among  the  Orientals,  and  should  it  not  be  complied 
M'ith,  the  present  is  usually  reclaimed  by  the  giver.  So  I 
arranged  upon  a  gaudy  calico  handkerchief  an  assortment  of 
vermilion,  tobacco,  knives  and  gunpowder,  and  summoning  the 
chief  to  camp,  assured  him  of  my  friendship,  and  begged  his 
acceptance  of  a  slight  token  of  it.  Ejaculating  how  !  how  ! 
he  folded  up  the  offerings  and  withdrew  to  his  lodge. 

Several  days  passed,  and  we  and  the  Indians  remained 
encamped  side  by  side.  They  could  not  decide  whether  or  not 
to  go  to  the  war.  Toward  evening,  scores  of  them  would  sur- 
round our  tent,  a  picturesque  group.  Late  one  afternoon  a 
party  of  them  mounted  on  horseback  came  suddenly  in  sight 
from  behind  some  clumps  of  bushes  that  lined  the  bank  of  the 
stream,  leading  with  them  a  mule,  on  whose  back  was  a 
wretched  negro,  only  sustained  in  his  seat  by  the  high  pommel 
and  cantle  of  the  Indian  saddle.  His  cheeks  were  withered 
and  shrunken  in  the  hollow  of  his  jaws  ;  his  eyes  were  unnat- 
urally dilated,  and  his  lips  seemed  shrivelled  and  drawn  back 
from  his  teeth  like  those  of  a  corpse.  Wheft  they  brought  him 
up  before  our  tent,  and  lifted  him  from  the  saddle,  he  could  not 
walk  or  stand,  but  he  crawled  a  short  distance,  and  with  a  look 
of  utter  misery  sat  down  on  the  grass.  All  the  children  and 
women  came  pouring  out  of  the  lodges  around  us,  and  with 
screams  and  cries  made  a  close  circle  about  him,  while  he  sat 


SCENES    AT    RHE    CAMP  185 

supporting  himself  with  his  hands,  and  looking  from  side  lo  side 
with  a  vacant  stare.  The  wretch  was  starving  to  death  !  For 
thirty-three  days  he  had  wandered  alone  on  the  prairie,  without 
weapon  of  any  kind  ;  without  shoes,  moccasons,  or  any  other 
clothing  than  an  old  jacket  and  pantaloons ;  without  intelligence 
and  skill  to  guide  his  course,  or  any  knowledge  of  the  produc- 
tions of  the  prairie.  All  this  time  he  had  subsisted  on  crickets 
and  lizards,  wild  onions,  and  three  eggs  which  he  found  in  the 
nest  of  a  prairie  dove.  He  had  not  seen  a  human  being. 
Utterly  bewildered  in  the  boundless,  hopeless  desert  that 
stretched  around  him,  offering  to  his  inexperienced  eye  no 
mark  by  which  to  direct  his  course,  he  had  walked  on  in 
despair,  till  he  could  walk  no  longer,  and  then  crawled  on  his 
knees,  until  the  bone  was  laid  bare.  He  chose  the  night  for 
his  travelling,  laying  down  by  day  to  sleep  in  the  glaring  sun, 
always  dreaming,  as  he  said,  of  the  broth  and  corn-cake  he 
used  to  eat  under  his  old  master's  shed  in  Missouri.  Every 
man  in  the  camp,  both  white  and  red,  was  astonished  at  his 
wonderful  escape  not  only  from  starvation  but  from  the  grizzly 
bears,  which  abound  in  that  neighborhood,  and  the  wolves 
which  howled  around  him  every  night. 

Reynal  recognized  him  the  moment  the  Indians  brought  him 
in.  He  had  run  away  from  his  master  about  a  year  before 
and  joined  the  party  of  M.  Richard,  who  was  then  leaving  the 
frontier  for  the  mountains.  He  had  lived  with  Richard  ever 
since,  until  in  the  end  of  May  he  with  Reynal  and  several 
other  men  went  out  in  search  of  some  stray  horses,  when  he 
got  separated  from  the  rest  in  a  storm,  and  had  never  been 
heard  of  up  to  this  time.      Knowing   his   inexperience   and 


186  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

helplessness,  no  one  dreamed  that  he  could  still  be  living. 
The  Indians  had  found  him  lying  exhausted  on  the  ground. 

As  he  sat  there,  with  the  Indians  gazing  silently  on  him, 
his  haggard  face  and  glazed  eye  were  disgusting  to  look  upon. 
Delorier  made  him  a  bowl  of  gruel,  but  he  suffered  it  to  re- 
main untasted  before  him.  At  length  he  languidly  raised  the 
spoon  to  his  lips  ;  again  he  did  so,  and  again  ;  and  then  his 
appetite  seemed  suddenly  inflamed  into  madness,  for  he  seized 
the  bowl,  swallowed  all  its  contents  in  a  kw  seconds,  and 
eagerly  demanded  meat.  This  we  refused,  telling  him  to 
wait  until  morning,  but  he  begged  so  eagerly  that  we  gave  him 
a  small  piece,  which  he  devoured,  tearing  it  like  a  dog.  He  said 
he  must  have  more.  We  told  him  that  his  life  was  in  danger 
if  he  ate  so  immoderately  at  first.  He  assented,  and  said  he 
knew  he  was  a  fool  to  do  so,  but  he  must  have  meat.  This  we 
absolutely  refused,  to  the  great  indignation  of  the  senseless 
squaws,  who,  when  we  were  not  watching  him,  would  slyly 
bring  dried  meat  and  pommes  blanches,  and  place  them  on  the 
ground  by  his  side.  Still  this  was  not  enough  for  him.  When 
it  grew  dark  he  contrived  to  creep  away  between  the  legs  of 
the  horses  and  crawl  over  to  the  Indian  village,  about  a  furlong 
down  the  stream.  Here  he  fed  to  his  heart's  content,  and 
was  brought  back  again  in  the  morning,  when  Jean  Gras,  the 
trapper,  put  him  on  horseback  and  carried  him  to  the  fort. 
He  managed  to  survive  the  effects  of  his  insane  greediness, 
and  though  slightly  deranged,  when  we  left  this  part  of  the 
country,  he  was  otherwise  in  tolerable  health,  and  expressed 
his  firm  conviction  that  nothing  could  ever  kill  him. 

When  the  sun  was  yet  an  hour  high,  it  was  a  gay  scene 
in   the  village.      The   warriors  stalked   sedately  among  the 


SCENES   AT   THE   CAMP.  187 

lodges,  or  along  the  margin  of  the  streams,  or  walked  out  to 
visit  the  bands  of  horses  that  were  feeding  over  the  prairie. 
Half  the  village  population  deserted  the  close  and  heated 
lodges  and  betook  themselves  to  the  water ;  and  here  you 
might  see  boys  and  girls,  and  young  squaws,  splashing,  swim- 
ming and  diving,  beneath  the  afternoon  sun,  with  merry 
laughter  and  screaming.  But  when  the  sun  was  just  resting 
above  the  broken  peaks,  and  the  purple  mountains  threw  their 
prolonged  shadows  for  miles  over  the  prairie  ;  when  our  grim 
old  tree,  lighted  by  the  horizontal  rays,  assumed  an  aspect  of 
peaceful  repose,  such  as  one  loves  after  scenes  of  tumult  and 
excitement ;  and  when  the  whole  landscape,  of  swelling  plains 
and  scattered  groves,  was  softened  into  a  tranquil  beauty  ;  then 
our  encampment  presented  a  striking  spectacle.  Could  Sal- 
vator  Rosa  have  transferred  it  to  his  canvas,  it  would  have 
added  new  renown  to  his  pencil.  Savage  figures  surrounded 
our  tent,  with  quivers  at  their  backs,  and  guns,  lances  or  toma- 
hawks in  their  hands.  Some  sat  on  horseback,  motionless  as 
equestrian  statues,  their  arms  crossed  on  their  breasts,  their 
eyes  fixed  in  a  steady  unwavering  gaze  upon  us.  Some  stood 
erect,  wrapped  from  head  to  foot  in  their  long  white  robes  of 
buflTalo-hide.  Some  sat  together  on  the  grass,  holding  their 
shaggy  horses  by  a  rope,  with  their  broad  dark  busts  exposed 
to  view  as  they  suffered  their  robes  to  fall  from  their  shoulders. 
Others  again  stood  carelessly  among  the  throng,  with  nothing 
to  conceal  the  matchless  symmetry  of  their  forms ;  and  I  do 
not  exaggerate  when  I  say,  that  only  on  the  prairie  and  in  the 
Vatican  have  I  seen  such  faultless  models  of  the  human  figure. 
See  that  warrior  standing  by  the  tree,  towering  six  feet  and  a 
half  in  stature.     Your  eyes  may  trace  the  whole  of  his  grace- 


rv 


188  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

ful  and  majestic  height,  and  discover  no  defect  or  blemish. 
^V'ilh  his  free  and  noble  attitude,  with  the  bow  in  his  hand, 
and  the  quiver  at  liis  back,  he  might  seem,  but  for  his  face,  the 
Pythian  Apollo  himself.  Such  a  figure  rose  before  the  imagi- 
nation of  West,  when  on  first  seeing  the  Belvidere  in  the  Va- 
tican,  he  exclaimed,  '  By  God,  a  Mohawk  !' 

When  the  sky  darkened  and  the  stars  began  to  appear  j 
when  the  prairie  was  involved  in  gloom,  and  the  horses  were 
driven  in  and  secured  around  the  camp,  the  crowd  began  to 
melt  away.  Fires  gleamed  around,  duskily  revealing  the  rough 
trappers  and  the  graceful  Indians.  One  of  the  families  near 
us  would  always  be  gathered  about  a  bright  blaze,  that  displayed 
the  shadowy  dimensions  of  their  lodge,  and  sent  its  lights  far 
up  among  the  masses  of  foliage  above,  gilding  the  dead  and 
ragged  branches.  Withered  witch-like  hags  flitted  around  the 
blaze  ;  and  here  for  hour  after  hour  sat  a  circle  of  children 
and  young  girls,  laughing  and  talking,  their  round  merry  faces 
glowing  in  the  ruddy  light.  We  could  hear  the  monotonous 
notes  of  the  drum  from  the  Indian  village,  with  the  chant  of 
t-he  war-song,  deadened  in  the  distance,  and  the  long  chorus  of 
quavering  yells,  w^here  the  war-dance  was  going  on  in  the 
largest  lodge.  For  several  nights,  too,  we  could  hear  wild  and 
mournful  cries,  rising  and  dying  away  like  the  melancholy 
voice  of  a  wolf.  They  came  from  the  sisters  and  female  rela- 
tives of  Mahto-Tatonka,  who  were  gashing  their  limbs  with 
knives,  and  bewailing  the  death  of  Henry  Chatillon's  squaw. 
The  hour  would  grow  late  before  all  retired  to  rest  iri  the 
camp.  Then  the  embers  of  the  fires  would  be  glowing  dimly, 
the  men  would  be  stretched  in  their  blankets  on  the  ground, 


SCENES   AT   THE   CAMP.  189 

and  nothing  could  be  heard  but  the  restless  motions  of  the 
crowded  horses. 

I  recall  these  scenes  with  a  mixed  feeling  of  pleasure  and 
pain.  At  this  time,  I  was  so  reduced  by  illness  that  I  could 
seldom  walk  without  reeling  like  a  drunken  man,  and  when  I 
rose  from  my  seat  upon  the  ground  the  landscape  suddenly 
grew  dim  before  my  eyes,  the  trees  and  lodges  seemed  to  sway 
to  and  fro,  and  the  prairie  to  rise  and  fall  like  the  swells  of  the 
ocean.  Such  a  state  of  things  is  by  no  means  enviable  any 
where.  In  a  country  where  a  man's  life  may  at  any  moment 
depend  on  the  strength  of  his  arm,  or  it  may  be  on  the  activity 
of  his  legs,  it  is  more  particularly  inconvenient.  Medical 
assistance  of  course  there  was  none ;  neither  had  I  the  mean.s 
of  pursuing  a  system  of  diet ;  and  sleeping  on  damp  ground 
with  an  occasional  drenching  from  a  shower,  would  hardly  be 
recommended  as  beneficial.  I  sometimes  suffered  the  extremity 
of  languor-  and  exhaustion,  and  though  at  the  time  I  felt  no 
apprehensions  of  the  final  result,  I  have  since  learned  that  my 
situation  was  a  critical  one. 

Besides  other  formidable  inconveniences,  I  owe  it  in  a  great 
measure  to  the  remote  effects  of  that  unlucky  disorder,  that  from 
deficient  eyesight  I  am  compelled  to  employ  the  pen  of  another 
in  taking  down  this  narrative  from  my  lips  ;  and  I  have  learned 
very  eft'ectually  that  a  violent  attack  of  dysentery  on  the 
prairie  is  a  thing  too  serious  for  a  joke.  I  tried  repose  and  a 
very  sparing  diet.  For  a  long  time,  with  exemplary  patience, 
I  lounged  about  the  camp,  or  at  the  utmost  staggered  over  to 
the  Indian  village,  and  walked  faint  and  dizzy  among  the 
lodges.  It  would  not  do  ;  and  I  bethought  me  of  starvation. 
During  five  days  I  sustained  life  on  one  small  biscuit  a  day. 


13 


190  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

At  the  end  of  that  time  I  was  weaker  than  before,  but  the 
disorder  seemed  shaken  in  its  strong-hold,  and  very  gradually 
I  began  to  resume  a  less  rigid  diet.  No  sooner  had  I  done  so 
than  the  same  detested  symptoms  revisited  me  ;  my  old  enemy 
resumed  his  pertinacious  assaults,  yet  not  with  his  former  vio- 
lence or  constancy,  and  though  before  I  regained  any  fair 
portion  of  my  ordinary  strength  weeks  had  elapsed,  and  months 
passed  before  the  disorder  left  me,  yet  thanks  to  old  habits  of 
activity,  and  a  merciful  Providence,  I  was  able  to  sustain 
myself  against  it. 

I  used  to  lie  languid  and  dreamy  before  our  tent,  and  muse 
on  the  past  and  the  future,  and  when  most  overcome  with  lassi- 
tude, my  eyes  turned  always  toward  the  distant  Black  Hills. 
There  is  a  spirit  of  energy  and  vigor  in  mountains,  and  they 
impart  it  to  all  who  approach  their  presence.  At  that  time  I 
did  not  know  how  many  dark  superstitions  and  gloomy  legends 
aie  associated  with  those  mountains  in  the  minds  of  the  Indians, 
but  I  felt  an  eager  desire  to  penetrate  their  hidden  recesses,  to 
explore  the  awful  chasms  and  precipices,  the  black  torrents,  the 
silent  forests  that  I  fancied  were  concealed  there. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ILL-LUCK. 

"  One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear, 
VVlien  they  reach'd  the  hall-door,  and  the  charger  stood  near ; 
So  light  to  the  croupe  tlie  fair  lady  he  swung, 
So  light  to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung  1 
'  She  is  won  !  we  are  gone,  over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur ; 
They'll  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,'  quoth  young  Lockinvar." 

Marmion. 

A  Canadian  came  from  Fort  Laramie,  and  brought  a  cu- 
rious piece  of  intelligence.  A  trapper,  fresh  from  the  moun- 
tains, had  become  enamoured  of  a  Missouri  damsel  belonging 
to  a  family  who  with  other  emigrants  had  been  for  some  days 
encamped  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  fort.  If  bravery  be  the 
most  potent  charm  to  win  the  favor  of  the  fair,  then  no  wooer 
could  be  more  irresistible  than  a  Rocky  Mountain  trapper.  In 
the  present  instance,  the  suit  was  not  urged  in  vain.  The 
lovers  concerted  a  scheme,  which  they  proceeded  to  carry  into 
effect  with  all  possible  dispatch.  The  emigrant  party  left  the 
fort,  and  on  the  next  succeeding  night  but  one  encamped  as 
usual,  and  placed  a  guard.  A  little  after  midnight,  the  ena- 
moured trapper  drew  near,  mounted  on  a  strong  horse,  and 
leading  another  by  the  bridle.     Fastening  both  animals  to  a 


rr 


192  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

tree,  he  stealthily  moved  towards  the  wagons,  as  if  he  were  ap- 
proaching a  band  of  buffalo.  Eluding  the  vigilance  of  the 
guard,  who  were  probably  half  asleep,  he  met  his  mistress  by 
appointment  at  the  outskirts  of  the  camp,  mounted  her  on  his 
Kpare  horse,  and  made  off  with  her  through  the  darkness.  The 
sequel  of  the  adventure  did  not  reach  our  cars,  and  we  never 
learned  how  the  imprudent  fair  one  liked  an  Indian  lodge  for  a 
dwelling,  and  a  reckless  trapper  for  a  bridegroom. 

At  length  the  Whirlwind  and  his  warriors  determined  to 
move.  They  had  resolved  after  all  their  preparations  not  to  go 
to  the  rendezvous  at  La  Bonte's  camp,  but  to  pass  through  the 
Black  Kills  and  spend  a  few  weeks  in  hunting  the  buffalo  on 
the  other  side,  until  they  had  killed  enough  to  furnish  them 
with  a  stock  of  provisions  and  with  hides  to  make  their  lodges 
for  the  next  season.  This  done,  they  were  to  send  out  a  small 
independent  war-party  against  the  enemy.  Their  final  deter- 
mination  left  us  in  some  embarrassment.  Should  we  go  to  La 
Bonte's  camp,  it  was  not  impossible  that  the  other  villages 
should  prove  as  vacillating  and  indecisive  as  the  Whirlwind's, 
and  that  no  assembly  whatever  would  take  place.  Our  old 
companion  Reynal  had  conceived  a  liking  for  us,  or  rather  for 
our  biscuit  and  coffee,  and  for  the  occasional  small  presents 
which  we  made  him.  He  was  very  anxious  that  we  should  go 
with  the  village  which  he  himself  intended  to  accompany.  He 
declared  he  was  certain  that  no  Indians  would  meet  at  the  ren- 
dezvous,  and  said  moreover  that  it  would  be  easy  to  convey  our 
cart  and  baggage  through  the  Black  Hills.  In  saying  this,  he 
told  as  usual  an  egregrious  falsehood.  Neither  he  nor  any 
white  man  with  us  had  ever  seen  the  difficult  and  obscure  de- 
files, through  which  the  Indians  intended  to  make  their  way. 


ILL-LTTCS.  103 

I  passed  them  afterward,  and  had  much  ado  to  force  my  dis- 
tressed horse  along  the  narrow  ravines,  and  through  chasms 
where  daylight  could  scarcely  penetrate.  Our  cart  might  as 
easily  have  been  conveyed  over  the  summit  of  Pike's  Peak. 
Anticipating  the  difficulties  and  uncertainties  of  an  attempt  to 
visit  the  rendezvous,  we  recalled  the  old  proverb,  about  '  A  bird 
in  the  hand,'  and  decided  to  follow  the  village. 

Both  camps,  the  Indians'  and  our  own,  broke  up  on  the 
morning  of  the  first  of  July.  I  was  so  weak  that  the  aid  of  a 
potent  auxiliary,  a  spoonful  of  whisky,  swallowed  at  short  in- 
tervals, alone  enabled  me  to  sit  my  hardy  little  mare  Pauline, 
through  the  short  journey  of  that  day.  For  half  a  mile  before 
us  and  half  a  mile  behind,  the  prairie  was  covered  far  and  wide 
with  the  moving  throng  of  savages.  The  barren,  broken  plain 
sti'etched  away  to  the  right  and  left,  and  far  in  front  rose  the 
gloomy  precipitous  ridge  of  the  Black  Hills.  We  pushed  for- 
ward to  the  head  of  the  scattered  column,  passing  the  burdened 
travaux,  the  heavily  laden  pack-horses,  the  gaunt  old  women 
on  foot,  the  gay  young  squaws  on  horseback,  the  restless  chil- 
dren running  among  the  crowd,  old  men  striding  along  in  their 
white  buffalo-robes,  and  groups  of  young  warriors  mounted  on 
their  best  horses.  Henry  Chatillon,  looking  backward  over 
the  distant  prairie,  exclaimed  suddenly  that  a  horseman  was 
approaching,  and  in  truth  we  could  just  discern  a  small  black 
speck  slowly  moving  over  the  face  of  a  distant  swell,  like  a  fly 
creeping  on  a  wall.     It  rapidly  grew  larger  as  it  approached. 

'  White  man,  I  b'lieve,'  said  Henry ;  '  look  how  he  ride ! 
Indian  never  ride  that  way.  Yes  ;  he  got  rifle  on  the  saddle 
before  him.' 

The  horseman  disappeared  in  a  hollow  of  the  prairie,  but 


194  THE    CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

we  soon  saw  liiiii  again,  and  us  he  came  riding  at  a  gallop 
toward  us  through  tlie  crowd  of  Indians,  his  long  hair  streaming 
in  the  wind  behind  him,  we  recognized  the  ruddy  face  and  old 
buckskin  frock  of  Jean  Gras  the  trapper.  He  was  just  arrived 
from  Fort  Laramie,  where  he  had  been  on  a  visit,  and  said  he 
had  a  message  for  us.  A  trader  named  Bisonette,  one  of 
Henry's  friends,  was  lately  come  from  the  settlements,  and 
intended  to  go  with  a  party  of  men  to  La  Bonte's  camp,  where, 
as  Jean  Gras  assured  us,  ten  or  twelve  villages  of  Indians 
would  certainly  assemble.  Bisonette  desired  that  we  would 
cross  over  and  meet  him  there,  and  promised  that  his  men 
should  protect  our  horses  and  baggage  while  we  went  among 
the  Indians.  Shaw  and  I  stopped  our  horses  and  held  a  council, 
and  in  an  evil  hour  resolved  to  go. 

For  the  rest  of  that  day's  journey  our  course  and  that  of 
the  Indians  was  the  same.  In  less  than  an  hour  we  came  to 
where  the  high  barren  prairie  terminated,  sinking  down  abruptly 
in  steep  descent ;  and  standing  on  these  heights,  we  saw  below 
us  a  great  level  meadow.  Laramie  Creek  bounded  it  on  the 
left,  sweeping  along  in  the  shadow  of  the  declivities,  and 
passing  with  its  shallow  and  rapid  current  just  below  us.  We 
sat  on  horseback,  waiting  and  looking  on,  while  the  whole 
savage  array  went  pouring  past  us,  hurrying  down  the  descent, 
and  spreading  themselves  over  the  meadow  below.  In  a  few 
moments  the  plain  was  swarming  with  the  moving  multitude, 
some  just  visible,  like  specks  in  the  distance,  others  still  passing 
on,  pressing  down,  and  fording  the  stream  with  bustle  and 
confusion.  On  the  edge  of  the  heights  sat  half  a  dozen  of 
the  elder  warriors,  gravely  smoking  and  looking  down  with 
unmoved  faces  on  the  wild  ard  striking  spectacle. 


ILL-LUCK.  '  195 

Up  went  tlie  lodges  in  a  circle  on  the  margin  of  the  stream. 
For  the  sake  of  quiet  we  pitched  our  tent  among  some  trees  at 
half  a  mile's  distance.  In  the  afternoon  we  were  in  the  village. 
The  day  was  a  glorious  one,  and  the  whole  camp  seemed  lively 
and  animated  in  sympathy.  Groups  of  children  and  young 
girls  were  laughing  gayly  on  the  outside  of  the  lodges.  The 
shields,  the  lances  and  the  bows  were  removed  from  the  tall 
tripods  on  which  they  usually  hung,  before  the  dwellings  of  their 
owners.  The  warriors  were  mounting  their  horses,  and  one  by 
one  riding  away  over  the  prairie  toward  the  neighboring  hills. 

Shaw  and  I  sat  on  the  grass  near  the  lodge  of  Reynal.  An 
old  woman,  with  true  Indian  hospitality,  brought  a  bowl  of 
boiled  venison  and  placed  it  before  us.  We  amused  ourselves 
with  watching  half  a  dozen  young  squaws  who  were  playing 
together  and  chasing  each  other  in  and  out  of  one  of  the  lodges. 
Suddenly  the  wild  yell  of  the  war-whoop  came  pealing  from 
the  hills.  A  crowd  of  horsemen  appeared,  rushing  down  their 
sides,  and  riding  at  full  speed  toward  the  village,  each  warrior's 
long  hair  flying  behind  him  in  the  wind  like  a  ship's  streamer. 
As  they  approached,  the  confused  throng  assumed  a  regular 
order,  and  entering  two  by  two,  they  circled  round  the  area  at 
full  gallop,  each  warrior  singing  his  war-song  as  he  rode. 
Some  of  their  dresses  were  splendid.  They  wore  superb  crests 
of  feathers,  and  close  tunics  of  antelope  skins,  fringed  with 
the  scalp-locks  of  their  enemies  ;  their  shields  too  were  often 
fluttering  with  the  war-eagle's  feathers.  All  had  bows  and 
arrows  at  their  backs ;  some  carried  long  lances,  and  a  few 
were  armed  with  guns.  The  White  Shield,  their  partisan, 
rode  in  gorgeous  attire  at  their  head,  mounted  on  a  black-and- 
white  horsi5.     Mahto-Tatonka  and  his  brothers  took  no  part  in 


196  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

this  parade,  for  ihoy  were  in  mourning  for  their  sister,  and 
were  all  sitting  in  their  lodges,  their  bodies  bedaubed  from  head 
to  foot  with  while  clay,  and  a  lock  of  hair  cut  from  each  of 
their  foreheads. 

The  warriors  circled  three  times  round  the  village ;  and  as 
each  distinguished  champion  passed,  the  old  women  would 
scream  out  his  name,  in  honor  of  his  bravery,  and  to  incite  the 
emulation  of  the  younger  warriors.  Little  urchins,  not  two 
years  old,  followed  the  warlike  pageant  with  glittering  eyes,  and 
looked  with  eager  wonder  and  admiration  at  those  whose  honors 
were  proclaimed  by  the  public  voice  of  the  village.  Thus 
early  is  the  lesson  of  war  instilled  into  the  mind  of  an  Indian, 
and  such  are  the  stimulants  which  excite  his  thirst  for  martial 
renown. 

The  procession  rode  out  of  the  village  as  it  had  entered  it, 
and  in  lialf  an  hour  all  the  warriors  had  returned  again,  drop- 
ping quietly  in,  singly  or  in  parties  of  two  or  three. 

As  the  sun  rose  next  morning  we  looked  across  the  meadow, 
and  cou^d  see  the  lodges  levelled  and  the  Indians  gathering 
together  in  preparation  to  leave  the  camp.  Their  course  lay 
to  the  westward.  We  turned  toward  the  north  with  our  three 
men,  the  four  trappqrs  following  us,  with  the  Indian  family  of 
Moran.  We  travelled  until  night.  I  suffered  not  a  little  from 
pain  and  weakness.  We  encamped  among  some  trees  by  the 
side  of  a  little  brook,  and  here  during  the  whole  of  the  next 
day  we  lay  waiting  for  Bisonette,  but  no  Bisonette  appeared. 
Here  also  two  of  our  trapper  friends  left  us,  and  set  out  for  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  On  the  second  morning,  despairing  of  Bis- 
onette's  arrival,  we  resumed  our  journey,  traversing  a  forlorn 
and  dreary  monotony  of  sun-sorched  plains,  where  no  living 


ILL-LUCK.  197 

thing  appeared  save  here  and  there  an  antelope  flying  before 
us  like  the  wind.  When  noon  came  we  saw  an  unwonted  and 
most  welcome  sight ;  a  rich  and  luxuriant  growth  of  trees, 
marking  the  course  of  a  little  stream  called  Horse-shoe  Creek. 
We  turned  gladly  toward  it.  There  were  loftly  and  spreading 
trees,  standing  widely  asunder,  and  supporting  a  thick  canopy 
of  leaves,  above  a  surface  of  rich,  tall  grass.  The  stream  ran 
swiftly,  as  clear  as  crystal,  through  the  bosom  of  the  wood, 
sparkling  over  its  bed  of  white  sand,  and  darkening  again  as  it 
entered  a  deep  cavern  of  leaves  and  boughs.  I  was  thoroughly 
exhausted,  and  flung  myself  on  the  ground,  scarcely  able  to 
move.  All  that  afternoon  I  lay  in  the  shade  by  the  side  of  the 
stream,  and  those  bright  woods  and  sparkling  waters  are 
associated  in  my  mind  with  recollections  of  lassitude  and  utter 
prostration.  When  night  came  I  sat  down  by  the  fire,  longing, 
with  an  intensity  of  which  at  this  moment  I  can  hardly 
conceive,  for  some  powerful  stimulant. 

In  the  morning,  as  glorious  a  sun  rose  upon  us  as  ever  ani- 
mated that  desolate  wilderness.  We  advanced,  and  soon  were 
surrounded  by  tall  bare  hills,  overspread  from  top  to  bottom 
with  prickly-pears  and  other  cacti,  that  seemed  like  clinging 
reptiles.  A  plain,  flat  and  hard,  and  with  scarcely  the  vestige 
of  grass,  lay  before  us,  and  a  line  of  tall  misshapen  trees 
bounded  the  onward  view.  There  was  no  sight  or  sound  of 
man  or  beast,  or  any  living  thing,  although  behind  those  trees 
was  the  long-looked-for  place  of  rendezvous,  where  we  fondly 
hoped  to  have  found  the  Indians  congregated  by  thousands. 
We  looked  and  listened  anxiously.  We  pushed  forward  with 
our  best  speed,  and  forced  our  horses  through  the  trees.  There 
were  copses  of  some  extent  beyond,  with  a  scanty  stream  creep- 


198  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

ing  llirouglx  their  niiLlst ;  and  as  we  pressed  through  the 
yielding  branches,  deer  sprang  up  to  lljc  right  and  left.  At 
length  we  cauglit  a  glimpse  of  the  prairie  beyond.  Soon  we 
emerged  upon  it,  and  saw,  not  a  plain  covered  with  encamp- 
ments and  swarming  with  life,  but  a  vast  unbroken  desert 
stretching  away  before  us  league  upon  league,  without  a  bush 
or  a  tree,  or  any  thing  that  had  life.  We  drew  rein  and  gave 
to  the  winds  our  sentiments  concerning  the  whole  aboriginal 
race  of  America.  Our  journey  was  in  vain,  and  much  worse 
than  in  vain.  For  myself,  I  was  vexed  and  disappointed  beyond 
measure ;  as  I  well  knew  that  a  slight  aggravation  of  my  dis- 
order would  render  this  false  step  irrevocable,  and  make  it  quite 
impossible  to  accomplish  effectually  the  design  which  had  led 
me  an  arduous  journey  of  between  three  and  four  thousand 
miles.  To  fortify  myself  as  well  as  I  could  against  such  a 
contingency,  I  resolved  that  I  would  not  under  any  circum- 
stances attempt  to  leave  the  country  until  my  object  was  com- 
pletely gained. 

And  where  were  the  Indians  ?  They  were  assembled  in 
great  numbers  at  a  spot  about  twenty  miles  distant,  and  there  at 
that  very  moment  they  were  engaged  in  their  warlike  ceremo- 
nies. The  scarcity  of  buffalo  in  the  vicinity  of  La  Bonte's 
camp,  which  would  render  their  supply  of  provisions  scanty  and 
precarious,  had  probably  prevented  them  from  assembling 
there  ;  but  of  all  this  we  knew  nothing  until  some  weeks  after. 

Shaw  lashed  his  horse  and  galloped  forward.  I,  though 
much  more  vexeu  than  he,  was  not  strong  enough  to  adopt  this 
convenient  vent  ta  my  feelings  ;  so  I  followed  at  a  quiet  pace, 
but  in  no  quiet  mood.  We  rode  up  to  a  solitary  old  tree,  which 
seemed  the  only  place  fit  for  encampment.     Half  its  branches 


ILL- LUCK.  199 

were  dead,  and  the  rest  were  so  scantily  furnished  with  leaves 
that  they  cast  but  a  meagre  and  wretched  shade,  and  the  old 
twisted  trunk  alone  furnished  sufficient  protection  from  the  sun. 
We  threw  down  our  saddles  in  the  strip  of  shadow  that  it  cast, 
and  sat  down  upon  them.  In  silent  indignation  we  remained 
smoking  for  an  hour  or  more,  shifting  our  saddles  with  the 
shifting  shadow,  for  the  sun  was  intolerably  hot. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HUNTING     INDIANS. 

"  I  tread. 

With  fainting  steps  and  slow, 
Where  wilds  immeasurably  spread 
Seem  lengthening  as  I  go." 

Goldsmith. 

At  last  we  had  reached  La  Bonte's  camp,  toward  which 
our  eyes  had  turned  so  long.  Of  all  weary  hours,  those  that 
passed  between  noon  and  sunset  of  the  day  when  we  arrived 
there  may  bear  away  the  palm  of  exquisite  discomfort.  I  lay 
under  the  tree  reflecting  on  what  course  to  pursue,  watching 
the  shadows  which  seemed  never  to  move,  and  the  sun  which 
remained  fixed  in  the  sky,  and  hoping  every  moment  to  see  the 
men  and  horses  of  Bisonette  emerging  from  the  woods.  Shaw 
and  Henry  had  ridden  out  on  a  scouting  expedition,  and  did 
not  return  until  the  sun  was  setting.  There  was  nothing  very 
cheering  in  their  faces  nor  in  the' news  they  brought. 

*  We  have  been  ten  miles  from  here,'  said  Shaw.  We 
climbed  the  highest  butte  we  could  find,  and  could  not  see  a 
bufialo  or  Indian  ;  nothing  but  prairie  for  twenty  miles  around 


HUNTING   INDIANS.  201 

US.'  Henry's  horse  was  quite  disabled  by  clambering  up  and 
down  the  sides  of  ravines,  and  Shaw's  wars  severely  fatigued. 

After  supper  that  evening,  as  we  sat  around  the  fire,  1  pro- 
posed to  Shaw  to  wait  one  day  longer,  in  hopes  of  Bisonette's 
arrival,  and  if  he  should  not  come,  to  send  Delorier  with  the 
cart  and  baggage  back  to  Fort  Laramie,  while  we  ourselves 
followed  the  Whirlwind's  village,  and  attempted  to  overtake  it 
as  it  passed  the  mountains.  Shaw,  not  having  the  same  motive 
for  hunting  Indians  that  I  had,  was  averse  to  the  plan ;  I  there- 
fore resolved  to  go  alone.  This  design  I  adopted  very  unwil- 
lingly, for  I  knew  that  in  the  present  state  of  my  health  the 
attempt  would  be  extremely  unpleasant,  and  as  I  considered, 
hazardous.  I  hoped  that  Bisonette  would  appear  in  the  course 
of  the  following  day,  and  bring  us  some  information  by  which 
to  direct  our  course,  and  enable  me  to  accomplish  my  purpose 
by  means  less  objectionable. 

The  rifle  of  Henry  Chatillon  was  necessary  for  the  subsist- 
ence of  the  party  in  my  absence  ;  so  I  called  Raymond,  and 
ordered  him  to  prepare  to  set  out  with  me.  Raymond  rolled 
his  eyes  vacantly  about,  but  at  length,  having  succeeded  in 
grappling  with  the  idea,  he  withdrew  to  his  bed  under  the  cart. 
He  was  a  heavy-moulded  fellow,  with  a  broad  face,  exactly 
like  an  owl's,  expressing  the  most  impenetrable  stupidity  and 
entire  self-confidence.  As  for  his  good  qualities,  he  had  a  sort 
of  stubborn  fidelity,  an  insensibility  to  danger,  and  a  kind  of 
instinct  or  sagacity,  which  sometimes  led  him  right,  where 
better  heads  than  his  were  at  a  loss.  Besides  this,  he  knew 
very  well  how  to  handle  a  rifle  and  picket  a  horse. 

Through  the  following  day  the  sun  glared  down  upon  us 
with  a   pitiless,  penetrating   heat.     The   distant  blue   prairie 


THE     DEATH     STRUOaLE. 


.-*r"^ 


HUNTING    INDIAN 


202  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

seemed  quivering  under  it.  The  lodge  of  our  Indian  associates 
was  baking  in  tiic  rays,  and  our  rifles,  as  they  leaned  against 
the  tree,  were  too  hot  for  the  touch.  There  was  a  dead  silence 
through  our  camp  and  all  around  it,  unbroken  except  by  the 
hum  of  gnats  and  musquitoes.  The  men,  resting  their  fore- 
heads on  their  arms,  were  sleeping  under  the  cart.  The  In- 
dians kept  close  within  their  lodge,  except  the  newly-married 
pair,  who  were  seated  together  under  an  awning  of  buffalo- 
robes,  and  the  old  conjurer,  who  with  his  hard,  emaciated  face 
and  gaunt  ribs  was  perched  aloft  like  a  turkey-buzzard,  among 
the  dead  branches  of  an  old  tree,  constantly  on  the  look-out  for 
enemies.  He  would  have  made  a  capital  shot.  A  rifle  bullet, 
skilfully  planted,  would  have  brought  him  tumbling  to  the 
ground.  Surely,  I  thought,  there  could  be  no  more  harm  in 
shooting  such  a  hideous  old  villain,  to  see  how  ugly  he  would 
look  when  he  was  dead,  than  in  shooting  the  detestable  vulture 
Avhich  he  resembled.  We  dined,  and  then  Shaw  saddled  his 
horse. 

'  I  will  ride  back,'  said  he,  '  to  Horse-Shoe  Creek,  and  see 
if  Bisonotte  is  there.' 

'  I  would  go  with  you,'  I  answered,  '  but  I  must  reserve  all 
the  strength  I  have.' 

The  afternoon  dragged  away  at  last.  I  occupied  myself  in 
cleaning  my  rifle  and  pistols,  and  making  other  preparations 
for  the  journey.  After  supper,  Henry  Chatillon  and  I  lay  by 
the  fire,  discussing  the  properties  of  that  admirable  weapon,  the 
rifle,  in  the  use  of  which  he  could  fairly  out-rival  Leatherstock- 
ing  himself. 

It  was  late  before  I  wrapped  myself  in  my  blanket,  and  lay 
down  for  the  night,  with  my  head  on  my  saddle      Shaw  had 


HUNTING   INDIANS.   "  203 

not  returned,  but  this  gave  us  no  uneasiness,  for  we  presumed 
that  he  had  fallen  in  with  Bisonette,  and  was  spending  the 
night  with  him.  For  a  day  or  two  past  I  had  gained  in 
strength  and  health,  but  about  midnight  an  attack  of  pain 
awoke  me,  and  for  some  hours  I  felt  no  inclination  to  sleep. 
The  moon  was  quivering  on  the  broad  breast  of  the  Platte  ', 
nothing  could  be  heard  except  those  low  inexplicable  sounds, 
like  whisperings  and  footsteps,  which  no  one  who  has  spent 
the  night  alone  amid  deserts  and  forests  will  be  at  a  loss  to 
understand.  As  I  was  falling  asleep,  a  familiar  voice,  shouting 
from  the  distance,  awoke  me  again.  A  rapid  step  approached 
the  camp,  and  Shaw  on  foot,  with  his  gun  in  his  hand,  hastily 
entered. 

'  Where's  your  horse  V  said  T,  raising  myself  on  my  elbow. 

'  Lost !'  said  Shaw,      '  Where's  Delorier  V 

'  There,'  I  replied,  pointing  to  a  confused  mass  of  blankets 
and  buffalo  robes. 

Shaw  touched  them  with  the  butt  of  his  gun,  and  up  sprang 
our  faithful  Canadian. 

'Come,  Delorier;  stir  up  the  fire,  and  get  me  something  to 
eat.' 

'  Where's  Bisonette  ?'  asked  I. 

'  The  Lord  knows  ;  there's  nobody  at  Horse-Shoe  Creek.' 

Shaw  had  gone  back  to  the  spot  where  we  had  encamped 
two  days  before,  and  finding  nothing  there  but  the  ashes  of  our 
fires,  he  had  tied  his  horse  to  the  tree  while  he  bathed  in  the 
stream.  Something  startled  his  horse,  who  broke  loose, 
and  for  two  hours  Shaw  tried  in  vain  to  catch  him.  Sunset 
approached,  and  it  was  twelve  miles  to  camp.  So  he  abandoned 
the  attempt,  and  set  out  on  foot  to  join  us.    The  greater  part  of 


IT 


204  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

his  perilous  and  solitary  work  was  porformetl  in  tlnrkncss.  His 
moccasons  were  worn  to  tatters  and  his  feet  severely  lacerated. 
He  sat  down  to  cat,  however,  with  the  usual  equanimity  of  his 
temper  not  at  all  disturbed  by  his  misfortune,  and  my  last 
recollection  before  falling  asleep  was  of  Shaw,  seated  cross- 
leffged  before  the  fire,  smoking  his  pipe.  The  horse,  I  may 
as  well  mention  here,  was  found  the  next  morning  by  Henry 
Chatillon. 

When  I  awoke  again  there  was  a  fresh  damp  smell  in  the 
air,  a  gray  twilight  involved  the  prairie,  and  above  its  eastern 
verge  was  a  streak  of  cold  red  sky.  I  called  to  the  men,  and 
in  a  moment  a  fire  was  blazing  brightly  in  the  dim  morning 
light,  and  breakfast  was  getting  ready.  We  sat  down  together 
3n  the  grass,  to  the  last  civilized  meal  which  Raymond  and  1 
were  destined  to  enjoy  for  some  time. 
'  Now  brinrr  in  the  horses.' 

My  little  mare  Pauline  was  soon  standing  by  the  fire.  She 
was  a  fleet,  hardy,  and  gentle  animal,  christened  after  Paul 
Dorion,  from  whom  I  had  procured  her  in  exchange  for  Pontiac. 
She  did  not  look  as  if  equipped  for  a  morning  pleasure  ride. 
In  front  of  the  black,  high-bowed  mountain -saddle,  holsters, 
with  heavy  pistols,  were  fastened.  A  pair  of  saddle-bags,  a 
blanket  tightly  rolled,  a  small  parcel  of  Indian  presents  tied  up 
in  a  buffalo-skin,  a  leather  bag  of  flour,  and  a  smaller  one 
of  tea  were  all  secured  behind,  and  a  long  trail-rope  was 
wound  round  her  neck.  Raymond  had  a  strong  black  mule, 
equipped  in  a  similar  manner.  We  crammed  our  powder, 
horns  to  the  throat,  and  mounted. 

*  I  will  meet  you  at  Fort  Laramie  on  the  first  of  August,' 
said  I  to  Shaw, 


HUNTING   INDIANS.  205 

*  That  is,'   replied  he,  '  if  we   don't  meet  before  that.     I 
think  I  shall  follow  after  you  in  a  day  or  two.' 

This  in  fact  he  attempted,  and  he  would  have  succeeded  if 
he  had  not  encountered  obstacles  against  which  his  resolute 
spirit  was  of  no  avail.  Two  days  after  I  left  him,  he  sent 
Delorier  to  the  fort  with  the  cart  and  baggage,  and  set  out  for 
the  mountains  with  Henry  Chatillon  ;  but  a  tremendous  thunder- 
storm had  deluged  the  prairie,  and  nearly  obliterated  not  only 
our  trail  but  that  of  the  Indians  themselves.  They  followed 
along  the  base  of  the  mountains,  at  a  loss  in  which  direction  to 
go.  •  They  encamped  there,  and  in  the  morning  Shaw  found 
himself  poisoned  by  ivy,  in  such  a  manner  that  it  was  impos- 
sible for  him  to  travel.  So  they  turned  back  reluctantly  toward 
Fort  Laramie.  Shaw's  limbs  were  swollen  to  double  their 
usual  size,  and  he  rode  in  great  pain.  They  encamped  again 
within  twenty  miles  of  the  fort,  and  reached  it  early  on  the 
following  morning.  Shaw  lay  seriously  ill  for  a  week,  and 
remained  at  the  fort  till  I  rejoined  him  some  time  after. 

To  return  to  my  own  story.  We  shook  hands  with  our 
friends,  rode  out  upon  the  prairie,  and  clambering  the  sandy 
hollows  that  were  channelled  in  the  sides  of  the  hills,  gained 
the  high  plains  above.  If  a  curse  had  been  pronounced  upon 
the  land,  it  could  not  have  worn  an  aspect  of  more  dreary  and 
forlorn  barrenness.  There  were  abrupt  broken  hills,  deep 
hollows  and  wide  plains ;  but  all  alike  glared  with  an  insup- 
portable whiteness  under  the  burning  sun.  The  country,  as  if 
parched  by  the  heat,  had  cracked  into  innumerable  fissures  and 
ravines,  that  not  a  little  impeded  pur  progress.  Their  steep 
sides  were  white  and  raw,  and  along  the  bottom  we  several 
times  discovered  the  broad  ti'acksof  the  terrific  grizzly  bear,  no 


20G  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OKEGON    TRAIL. 

where  more  abuiulant  than  in  this  region.  The  ridges  of  the 
hills  were  hard  as  rock,  and  strewn  with  pebbles  of  flint  and 
coarse  red  jasper ;  looking  from  tliem,  there  was  nothing  to 
relieve  the  desert  uniformity  of  the  prospect,  save  here  and 
there  a  pine-tree  clinging  at  the  edge  of  a  ravine,  and  stretching 
over  its  rough,  shaggy  arms.  Under  the  scorching  heat,  these 
melancholy  trees  diffused  their  peculiar  resinous  odor  through 
the  sultry  air.  There  was  something  in  it,  as  I  approached 
them,  that  recalled  old  associations  :  the  pine-clad  mountains 
of  New-England,  traversed  in  days  of  health  and  buoyancy, 
rose  like  a  reality  before  my  fancy.  In  passing  that  arid  waste 
I  was  goaded  with  a  morbid  thirst  produced  by  my  disorder, 
and  I  thought  with  a  longing  desire  on  the  crystal  treasure 
poured  in  such  wasteful  profusion  from  our  thousand  hills. 
Shutting  my  eyes,  I  more  than  half  believed  that  I  heard  the 
deep  pluifging  and  gurgling  of  waters  in  the  bowels  of  the 
shaded  rocks.  I  could  see  their  dark  icy  glittering  far  down 
amid  the  crevices,  and  the  cold  drops  trickling  from  the  long 
green  mosses. 

When  noon  came,  we  found  a  little  stream,  with  a  few  trees 
and  bushes  ;  and  here  we  rested  for  an  hour.  Then  we  traveL 
led  on,  guided  by  the  sun,  until,  just  before  sunset,  we  reached 
another  stream,  called  Bitter  Cotton-wood  Creek.  A  thick 
growth  of  bushes  and  old  storm-beaten  trees  grew  at  intervals 
along  its  bank.  Near  the  foot  of  one  of  the  trees  we  flung 
down  our  saddles,  and  hobbling  our  horses,  turned  them  loose 
to  feed.  The  little  stream  was  clear  and  swift,  and  ran 
musically  over  its  white  sands.  Small  water-birds  were  splash- 
ing in  the  shallows,  and  filling  the  air  with  their  cries  and 
flutterings.    The  sun  was  just  sinking  among  gold  and  crimson 


HUNTING   INDIANS.  207 

clouds  behind  Mount  Laramie.  I  well  remember  how  I  lay 
upon  a  log  by  the  margin  of  the  water,  and  watched  the  rest- 
less motions  of  the  little  fish  in  a  deep  still  nook  below. 
Strange  to  say,  I  seemed  to  have  gained  strength  since  the 
morning,  and  almost  felt  a  sense  of  returning  health. 

We  built  our  fire.  Night  came,  and  the  wolves  began  to 
howl.  One  deep  voice  commenced,  and  it  was  answered  in 
awful  responses  from  the  hills,  the  plains,  and  the  woods  along 
the  stream  above  and  below  us.  Such  sounds  need  not  and  do 
not  disturb  one's  sleep  upon  the  prairie.  We  picketed  the  mare 
and  the  mule  close  at  our  feet,  and  did  not  awake  until  daylight. 
Then  we  turned  them  loose,  still  hobbled,  to  feed  for  an  hour 
before  starting.  We  were  getting  ready  our  morning's  meal, 
when  Raymond  saw  an  antelope  at  half  a  mile's  distatice,  and 
said  he  would  go  and  shoot  it. 

'  Your  business,'  said  I,  'is  to  look  after  the  animals.  I  am 
too  weak  to  do  much,  if  any  thing  happens  to  them,  and  you 
must  keep  within  sight  of  the  camp.' 

Raymond  promised,  and  set  out  with  his  rifle  in  his  hand.  . 
The  animals  had  passed  across  the  stream,  and  were  feeding 
among  the  long  grass  on  the  other  side,  much  tormented  by  the 
attacks  of  the  numerous  large  green-headed  flies.  As  I  watched 
them,  I  saw  them  go  down  into  a  hollow,  and  as  several  minutes 
elapsed  without  their  reappearing,  I  waded  through  the  stream  to 
look  after  them.  To  my  vexation  and  alarm  I  discovered  them 
at  a  great  distance,  gallopping  away  at  full  speed,  Pauline  in 
advance,  with  her  hobbles  broken,  and  the  mule,  still  fettered, 
following  with  awkward  leaps.  I  fired  my  rifle  and  shouted  to 
recall  Raymond.  In  a  moment  he  came  running  through  the^ 
stream,  with  a  red  handkerchief  bound  round  his   head.     I 


203  TUi:    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

pointed  to  tlie  fugitives,  and  ordered  hini  to  pursue  them.     Mut- 
tering a   '  Sucre  !'  between  his  teeth,  lie  set  out  at  full  speed, 
still  swinging  his  rifle  in  his  hand.     I  walked  up  to  the  top  of  a 
hill,  and  looking  away   over  the  prairie,  could  just  distinguish 
the  runaways,  still  at  full  gallop.     Returning  to  the  fire,  I  sat 
down  at  the  foot  of  a  tree.     Wearily  and  anxiously  hour  after 
hour  passed   away.     The  old  loose  bark   dangling  from  the 
trunk  behind  me  flapped  to  and  fro  in  the  wind,  and  the  mos- 
quitoes kept  up  their  incessant  drowsy  humming ;   but  other 
than  this,  there  was  no  sight  nor  sound  of  life  throughout  the 
burning  landscape.     The  sun  rose  higher  and  higher,  until  the 
shadows  fell  almost  perpendicularly,  and  I  knew  that  it  must  be 
noon.     It  seemed  scarcely  possible  that  the  animals  could  be 
recovered.     If  they  were  not,  my  situation  was  one  of  serious 
difficulty. ,   Shaw,  when  I  left  him,  had  decided  to  move  that 
morning,  but  whither  he  had  not  determined.     To  look  for  him 
would  bo  a  vain  attempt.     Fort  Laramie  was,  forty  miles  dis- 
tant, and  I  could  not  walk   a  mile  without  great  effort.     Not 
-then  having  learned  the  sound  philosophy  of  yielding  to  dispro- 
portionate obstacles,  I  resolved  to  continue  in  any  event  the  pur- 
suit of  the  Indians.     Only  one  plan  occurred  to  me  ;  this  was, 
to  send  Raymond  to  the  fort  with  an  order  for  more  horses, 
while  I  remained  on  ih&  spot,  awaiting  his  return,  which  might 
take  place  within  three  days.     But  the  adoption  of  this  resolu- 
tion did  not  wholly  allay  my  anxiety,  for  it  involved  both  un- 
certainly and  danger.     To  remain  stationary   and  alone   for 
three  days,  in  a  country  full  of  dangerous  Indians,  was  not  the 
most  flattering  of  prospects  ;  and  protracted  as  my  Indian  hunt 
must  be  by  such  delay,  it  was  not  easy  to  foretell  its  ultimate 
result.     Revolving  these  matters,  I  grew  hungry  ;  and  as  our  ^ 


HUNTING    INDIANS.  209 

stock  of  provisions,  except  four  or  five  pounds  of  flour,  was  by 
this  time   exhausted,  I  left  the  camp  to  see  what  game  I  could 
find.  .  Nothing  could  be  seen  except  four  or  five  large  curlew, 
which,  with  tlicir  loud  screaming,  were  wheeling  over  my  head, 
and  now   and  then  alighting  upon  the  prairie.     I  shot  two  of 
them,  and  was  about  returning,  when  a  startling  sight  caught 
my  eye.     A  small,  dark  object,  like  a  human  head,  suddenly 
appeared,   and   vanished   among   the    thick  bushes  along   the 
stream  below.     In  that  country  every  stranger  is  a  suspected 
enemy.     Instinctively  I  threw  forward  the  muzzle  of  my  rifle. 
In  a  moment  the  bushes  were  violently  shaken,  two  heads,  but 
not  human  heads,  protruded,  and  to  my  great  joy  I  recognized 
the  downcast,  disconsolate  countenance  of  the  black  mule  and 
the  yellow  visage  of  Pauline.     Raymond  came  upon  the  mule, 
pale  and  haggard,  complaining  of  a  fiery  pain  in  his  chest.     I 
took  charge  of  the  animals  while  he  kneeled  down  by  the  side 
of  the  stream  to  drink.     He  had  kept  the  runaways  in  sight  as 
far  as  the  Side  Fork  of  Laramie  Creek,  a  distance  of  more  than 
ten  miles ;   and  here  with  great  difficulty  he  had  succeeded  in 
catching  them.     I  saw  that  he  was  unarmed,  and    asked   him 
what  he  had  done  with  his  rifle.     It  had  encumbered  him  in 
his  pursuit,  and  ho  had  dropped  it  on  the  prairie,  thinking  that 
he  could  find  it  on  his  return  ;  but  in  this  he  had  failed.     The 
loss   might  prove  a  very  formidable  one.     1  was  too  much  re- 
joiced however  at  the   recovery  of  the  animals  to  think  much 
about  it ;  and  having  made  some  tea  for  Raymond  in  a  tin  ves- 
sel which  we  had  brouglit  with  us,  I  told  him  that  I  would  give 
him  two  hours  for  resting  before  we  set  out  again.     He  had 
eaten  nothing  tliat  day  ;    but  having  no  appetite,  he  lay  down 
immediately  to  sleep.     I  picketed  the  animals  among  the  rich- 


210 


TIIK    OvVLIFOUNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


sat  grass  that  I  could  find,  and  made  fires  of  green  wood  to  pro- 
tect ihein  irom  the  flies ;  then  sitting  down  again  by  the  tree,  I 
watched  tlie  slow  movements  of  the  sun,  begrudging  every  mo- 
ment that  passed. 

Tlie  time  I  had  mentioned  expired,  and  I  awoke  Raymond. 
We  saddled  and  set  out  again,  but  first  we  went  in  search 
of  the  lost  rifle,  and  in  the  course  of  an  hour  Raymond  was 
fortunate  enough  to  find  it.  Then  we  turned  westward,  and 
moved  over  the  hills  and  hollows  at  a  slow  pace  towards  the 
Black  Hills.  The  heat  no  longer  tormented  us,  for  a  cloud 
was  before  the  sun.  Yet  that  day  shall  never  be  marked  with 
white  in  my  calendar.  Tlie  air  began  to  grow  fresh  and  cool, 
the  distant  mountains  frowned  more  gloomily,  there  was  a  low 
muttering  of  thunder,  and  dense  black  masses  of  cloud  rose 
heavily  behind  the  broken  peaks.  At  first  they  were  gayly 
fringed  with  silver  by  the  afternoon  sun ;  but  soon  the  thick 
blackness  overspread  the  whole  sky,  and  the  desert  around  us 
was  wrapped  in  deep  gloom.  I  scarcely  heeded  it  at  the  time, 
but  now  I  cannot  but  feel  that  there  was  an  awful  sublimity  in 
the  hoarse  murmuring  of  the  thunder,  in  the  sombre  shadows 
that  involved  the  mountains  and  the  plain.  The  storm  broke. 
It  came  upon  us  with  a  zigzag  blinding  flash,  with  a  terrific 
crash  of  thunder,  and  with  a  hurricane  that  howled  over  the 
prairie,  dashing  floods  of  water  against  us.  Raymond  looked 
round,  and  cursed  the  merciless  elements.  There  seemed  no 
shelter  near,  but  we  discerned  at  length  a  deep  ravine  gashed 
in  the  level  prairie,  and  saw  half  way  down  its  side  an  old 
pine  tree,  whose  rough  horizontal  boughs  formed  a  sort  of  pent 
house  against  the  tempest.  We  found  a  practicable  passage 
and  hastily  descending,  fastened  our  animals  to  some  large 


HUNTING   INDIANS.  211 

loose  stones  at  the  bottom ;  then  climbing  up,  we  drew  our 
blankets  over  our  heads,  and  seated  ourselves  close  beneath  the 
old  tree.  Perhaps  I  was  no  competent  judge  of  time,  but  it 
seemed  to  me  that  we  were  sitting  there  a  full  hour,  while 
around  us  poured  a  deluge  of  rain,  through  which  the  rocks  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  gulf  were  barely  visible.  The  first 
burst  of  the  tempest  soon  subsided,  but  the  rain  poured  steadily. 
At  length  Raymond  grew  impatient,  and  scrambling  out  of  the 
ravine,  he  gained  the  level  prairie  above. 

'  What  does  the  weather  look  like  V  asked  I,  from  my  seat 
under  the  tree. 

'  It  looks  bad,'  he  answered  ;  '  dark  all  around,'  and  again 
he  descended  and  sat  down  by  my  side.  Some  ten  minutes 
elapsed. 

'  Go  up  again,'  said  I,  '  and  take  another  look ;'  and  he 
clambered  up  the  precipice.     '  Well,  how  is  it?' 

'  Just  the  same,  only  I  see  one  little  bright  spot  over  the 
top  of  the  mountain.' 

The  rain  by  this  time  had  begun  to  abate ;  and  going  down 
to  the  bottom  of  the  ravine,  we  loosened  the  animals,  who  were 
standing  up  to  their  knees  in  water.  Leading  them  up  the 
rocky  throat  of  the  ravine,  we  reached  the  plain  above.  '  Am 
I,'  I  thought  ♦o  myself,  '  the  same  man  who,  a  few  months 
since,  was  seated,  a  quiet  student  of  belles-lettres,  in  a  cush- 
ioned arm-chair  by  a  sea-coal  fire  V 

All  around  us  was  obscurity ;  but  the  bright  spot  above 
the  mountain-tops  grew  wider  and  ruddier,  until  at  length  the 
clouds  drew  apart,  and  a  flood  of  sunbeams  poured  down  from 
heaven,  streaming  along  the  precipices,  and  involving  them  in 
a  thin  blue  haze,  as  soft  and  lovely  as  that  which  wraps  the 


212 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


Apennines  on  an  evening  in  spring.  Rapidly  the  clouds  were 
broken  and  scattered,  like  routed  legions  of  evil  spirits.  The 
plain  lay  basking,  in  sunbeams  around  us ;  a  rainbow  arched 
the  desert  from  norlh-to  south,  and  far  in  front  a  line  of  uoods 
seemed  inviting  us  to  refreshmeni  and  repose.  When  we 
reached  them,  they  were  glistening  with  prismatic  dew-drops, 
and  enlivened  by  the  songs  and  flutterings  of  a  hundred  birds. 
Strange  winged  insects,  benumbed  by  the  rain,  were  clinging 
to  the  leaves  and  the  bark  of  the  trees. 

Raymond  kindled  a  fire  with  great  difficulty.  The  animals 
turned  eagerly  to  feed  on  the  soft  rich  grass,  while  I,  wrapping 
myself  in  my  blanket,  lay  down  and  gazed  on  the  evening 
landscape.  The  mountains,  whose  stern  features  had  lowered 
upon  us  with  so  gloomy  and  awful  a  frown,  now  seemed  lighted 
up  with  a  serene,  benignant  smile,  and  the  green  Avaving  un- 
dulations  of  the  plain  were  gladdened  with  the  rich  sunshine. 
Wet,  ill,  and  wearied  as  I  was,  my  spirit  grew  lighter  at  the 
view,  and  I  drew  from  it  an  augury  of  good  for  my  future 
prospects. 

When  morning  came,  Raymond  awoke,  coughing  violently, 
though  I  had  apparently  received  no  injury.  We  mounted, 
crossed  the  little  stream,  pushed  through  the  trees,  and  began 
our  journey  over  the  plain  beyond.  And  now,  as  we  rode 
slowly  along,  we  looked  anxiously  on  every  hand  for  traces  of 
the  Indians,  not  doubting  that  the  village  had  passed  some- 
w}iere  in  that  vicinity ;  but  the  scanty  shrivelled  grass  was  not 
more  than  thi'ee  or  four  inches  high,  and  the  ground  was  of 
such  unyielding  hardness  that  a  host  might  have  marched  over 
it  and  left  scarcely  a  trace  of  its  passage.  Up  hill  and  down 
hill,  and  clambering  through  ravines,  we  continued  our  jour 


i 


HUNTING    INDIANS. 


213 


ncy.  As  we  were  skirting  the  foot  of  a  liill,  I  saw  Raymond, 
who  was  some  rods  in  advance,  suddenly  jerking  the  reins  of 
his  mule.  Sliding  from  his  seat,  and  runajng  in  a  crouching 
posture  up  a  hollow,  he  disappeared  ;  a«d  then  in  an  instant 
I  heard  the  sharp  quick  crack  of  his  rifle.  A  wounded  ante- 
lope came  running  on  three  legs  over  the  hill.  I  lashed  Pau- 
line and  made  after  him.  My  fleet  little  mare  soon  brought 
me  by  his  side,  and  after  leaping  and  bounding  for  a  few  mo- 
ments in  vain,  he  stood  still,  as  if  despairing  of  escape.  His 
glistening  eyes  turned  up  toward  my  face  with  so  piteous  a 
look,  that  it  was  with  feelings  of  infinite  compunction  that  I 
shot  him  through  the  head  with  a  pistol.  Raymond  skinned 
and  cut  him  up,  and  we  hung  the  fore-quarters  to  our  saddles, 
much  rejoiced  that  our  exhausted  stock  of  provisions  w^as  re- 
newed in  such  good  time. 

Gaining  the  top  of  a  hill,  we  could  see  along  the  cloudy 
verge  of  the  prairie  before  us  lines  of  trees  and  shadowy 
groves,  that  marked  the  course  of  Laramie  Creek".  Some 
time  before  noon  we  reached  its  banks,  and  began  anxiously  to 
search  them  for  footprints  of  the  Indians.  We  followed  the 
stream  for  several  miles,  now  on  the  shore  and  now  Avading  in 
the  water,  scrutinizing  every  sand-bar  and  every  muddy  bank. 
So  long  was  the  search,  that  we  began  to  fear  that  we  had  left 
the  trail  undiscovered  behind  us.  At  length  I  heard  Raymond 
shouting,  and  saw  him  jump  from  his  mule  to  examine  some 
object  under  the  shelving  bank.  I  rode  up  to  his  side.  It  was 
the  clear  and  palpable  impression  of  an  Indian  moccason.  En- 
couraged by  this,  we  continued  our  search,  and  at  last  some 
appearances  on  a  soft  surface  of  earth  not  far  from  the  shore 
attracted  my  eye  ;  and  going  to  examine  them,  I  found  half  a 


214 


THE    CAMKORNIA    AND    OUKHON    TUAir,. 


dozen  tracks,  sonio  made  by  men  and  some  by  children.  Just 
then  Raymond  observed  across  the  stream  the  mouth  of  a  small 
branch,  entering  it  from  the  south.  He  forded  the  water,  rode 
in  at  the  opening,  and  in  a  moment  I  heard  him  shouting 
again;  so  I  passed  over  and  joined  him.  The  little  branch 
had  a  broad  sandy  bed,  along  which  the  water  trickled  in  a 
scanty  stream  ;  and  on  either  bank  the  bushes  were  so  close 
that  the  view  was  completely  intercepted.  I  found  Raymond 
stooping  over  the  footprints  of  three  or  four  horses.  Proceed- 
ing, we  found  those  of  a  man,  then  those  of  a  child,  then  those 
of  more  horses ;  and  at  last  tiie  bushes  on  each  bank  were 
beaten  down  and  broken,  and  the  sand  ploughed  up  with  a 
multitude  of  footsteps,  and  scored  across  with  the  furrows 
made  by  the  lodge-poles  that  had  been  dragged  through.  It 
was  now  certain  that  we  had  found  the  trail.  I  pushed  through 
the  bushes,  and  at  a  little  distance  on  the  prairie  beyond  found 
the  ashes  of  an  liundred  and  fifty  lodgc-fires,  with  bones  and 
pieces  of  buffalo-robes  scattered  around  them,  and  in  some 
instances  the  pickets  to  which  horses  had  been  secured  still 
standing  in  the  ground.  Elated  by  our  success,  we  selected  a 
convenient  tree,  and  turning  the  animals  loose,  prepared  to 
make  a  meal  from  the  fat  haunch  of  our  victim, 

Hardship  and  exposure  had  thriven  with  me  wonderfully. 
I  had  gained  both  health  and  strength  since  leaving  La  Bonte's 
camp.  Raymond  and  1  made  a  hearty  meal  together,  in  high 
spirits ;  for  we  rashly  presumed  that  having  found  one  end  of 
the  trail  we  should  have  little  difficulty  in  reaching  the  other. 
But  when  the  animals  were  led  in,  we  found  that  our  old  ill- 
luck  had  not  ceased  to  follow  us  close.  As  I  was  saddling 
Pauline,  I  saw  that  her  eye  was  as  dull  as  lead,  and  the  hue  of 


HUNTING   INDIANS.  215 

her  yellow  coat  visibly  darkened.  I  placed  my  foot  m  the  stir- 
rup  to  mount,  when  instantly  she  staggered  and  fell  flat  on  hel 
side.  Gaining  her  feet  with  an  effort,  she  stood  by  the  fire  with 
a  drooping  head.  Whether  she  had  been  bitten  by  a  snake.,  or 
poisoned  by  some  noxious  plant,  or  attacked  by  a  sudden  disor- 
der, it  was  hard  to  say  ;  but  at  all  events,  her  sickness  was 
sufficiently  ill-timed  and  unfortunate.  I  succeeded  in  a  second 
attempt  to  mount  her,  and  with  a  slow  pace  we  moved  forward 
on  the  trail  of  the  Indians.  It  led  us  up  a  hill  and  over  a 
dreary  plain ;  and  here,  to  our  great  mortification,  the  traces 
almost  disappeared,  for  the  ground  was  hard  as  adamant ;  and 
if  its  flinty  surface  had  ever  retained  the  dint  of  a  hoof,  the 
marks  had  been  washed  away  by  the  deluge  of  yesterday.  An 
Indian  village,  in  its  disorderly  march,  is  scattered  over  the 
prairie,  often  to  the  width  of  full  half  a  mile  ;  so  that  its  trail 
is  nowhere  clearly  marked,  and  the  task  of  following  it  is  made 
doubly  wearisome  and  difficult.  By  good  fortune,  plenty  of 
large  ant-hills,  a  yard  or  more  in  diameter,  were  scattered  over 
the  plain,  and  these  were  frequently  broken  by  the  footprints 
of  men  and  horses,  and  marked  by  traces  of  the  lodge-poles 
The  succulent  leaves  of  the  prickly  pear,  also,  bruised  from  the 
same  causes,  helped  a  little  to  guide  us  ;  so,  inch  by  inch,  we 
moved  along.  Often  we  lost  the  trail  altogether,  and  then 
would  recover  it  again  ;  but  late  in  the  afternoon  we  found 
ourselves  totally  at  fault.  We  stood  alone,  without  a  clue  to 
guide  us.  The  broken  plain  expanded  for  league  after  league 
around  us,  and  in- front  the  long  dark  ridge  of  mountains  was 
stretching  from  north  to  south.  Mount  Laramie,  a  little  on  our 
right,  towered  high  above  the  rest,  and  from  a  dark  valley  just 


216 


THE    CALIFOKMA    AND    OnF/iOX   TRAIL. 


beyond  one  of  its  lower  declivities,  wc  discerned  volumes  of 
white  smoke,  slowly  rolling  up  into  the  clear  air. 

*I  think,'  said  Raymond,  'some  Indians  must  he  there. 
Perhaps  we  had  better  go.'  But  this  plan  was  not  rashly  to  be 
adopted,  and  we  determined  still  to  continue  our  search  after 
the  lost  trail.  Our  good  stars  prompted  us  to  this  decision,  for 
we  afterward  had  reason  to  believe,  from  information  given  us 
by  the  Indians,  that  the  smoke  was  rai'sed  as  a  decoy  by  a  Crow 
war-party. 

Evening  was  coming  on,  and  there  was  no  wood  or  water 
nearer  than  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  So  thither  we  turned, 
directing  our  course  toward  the  point  where  Laramie  Creek 
issues  forth  upon  the  prairie.  When  we  reached  it,  the  bare 
tops  of  the  mountains  were  still  brightened  with  sunshine.  The 
little  river  was  breaking,  with  a  vehement  and  angry  current, 
from  its  dark  prison.  There  was  something  in  the  near  vicinity 
of  the  mountains,  in  the  loud  surging  of  the  rapids,  wonderfully 
cheering  and  exhilarating ;  for  although  once  as  familiar  as 
home  itself,  they  had  been  for  months  strangers  to  my  experi- 
ence. There  was  a  rich  grass-plot  by  the  river's  bank,  sur- 
rounded by  low  ridges,  which  would,  effectually  screen  ourselves 
and  our  fire  from  the  sight  of  wandering  Indians.  Here,  among 
the  grass,  I  observed  numerous  circles  of  large  stones,  which, 
as  Raymond  said,  were  traces  of  a  Dahcotah  winter  encamp- 
ment. We  lay  down,  and  did  not  awake  till  the  sun  was  up. 
A  large  rock  projected  from  the  shore,  and  behind  it  the  deep 
water  was  slowly  eddying  round  and  round.  The  temptation 
was  irresistible.  I  threw  off  my  clothes,  leaped  in,  suffered 
myself  to  be  borne  once  round  with  the  current,  and  then, 
seizing  the   strong  root  of  a  water-plant,  drew  myself  to  the 


HUiVTING    INDIANS.  217 

shore.  The  effect  was  so  invigoratkig  and  refreshing,  that  I 
mistook  it  for  returning  health.  '  Pauline,'  thought  I,  as  I  led 
the  little  mare  up  to  be  saddled,  'only  thrive  as  I  do,  and  you 
and  I  ^Yill  have  sport  yet  among  the  buffalo  beyond  these 
mountains.'  But  scarcely  were  we  mounted  and  on  our  way, 
before  the  momentary  glow  passed.  Again  I  hung  as  usual  in 
my  seat,  scarcely  able  to  hold  myself  erect. 

'  Look  yonder,'  said  Raymond ;  '  you  see  'that  big  hollow 
there ;  the  Indians  must  have  gone  that  way,  if  they  went  any 
where  about  here.' 

We  reached  the  gap,  which  was  like  a  deep  notch  cut  into 
the  mountain-ridge,  and  here  we  soon  discerned  an  ant-hill  fur- 
rowed with  the  mark  of  a  lodge. pole.  This  was  quite  enough  ; 
there  could  be  no  doubt  now.  As  we  rode  on,  the  opening 
growing  narroM'er,  the  Indians  had  been  compelled  to  march 
in  closer  order,  and  the  traces  became  numerous  and  distinct. 
The  gap  terminated  in  a  rocky  gateway,  leading  into  a  rough 
passage  upward,  between  two  precipitous  mountains.  Here 
grass  and  weeds  were  bruised  to  fragments  by  the  throng  that 
had  passed  through.  We  moved  slowly  over  the  rocks,  up  the 
passage ;  and  in  this  toilsome  manner  we  advanced  for  an  hour 
or  two,  bare  precipices,  hundreds  of  feet  high,  shooting  up  on 
either  hand.  Raymond,  with  his  hardy  mule,  was  a  few  rods 
before  me,  when  we  came  to  the  foot  of  an  ascent  steeper  than 
the  rest,  and  which  I  trusted  might  prove  the  highest  point 
of  the  defile.  Pauline  strained  upward  for  a  few  yards,  moan- 
ing and  stumbling,  and  then  came  to  a  dead  stop,  unable  to 
proceed  further.  I  dismounted,  and  attempted  to  lead  her ;  but 
my  own  exhausted  strength  soon  gave  out ;  so  I  loosened  the 
trail-rope  from  her  rieck,  and  tying  it  round  my  arm,  crawled 


218 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


up  on  my  hands  and  knees.  I  gained  the  top,  totally  exhausted, 
the  sweat-drops  trickling  from  my  forehead.  Pauline  stood  like 
a  statue  by  my  side,  her  shadow  falling  upon  the  scorching 
rock  ;  and  in  this  shade,  for  there  was  no  other,  I  lay  for  some 
time,  scarcely  able  to  move  a  limb.  All  around,  the  black 
crags,  sharp  as  needles  at  the  top,  stood  glowing  in  the  sun, 
without  a  tree,  or  a  bush,  or  a  blade  of  grass,  to  cover  their 
precipitous  sides.  The  Avhole  scene  seemed  parched  with  a 
pitiless,  insufferable  heat. 

After  awhile  I  could  mount  again,  and  we  moved  on,  de- 
cending  the  rocky  defile  on  its  western  side.  Thinking  of  that 
morning's  journey,  it  has  sometimes  seemed  to  me  that  there  was 
something  ridiculous  in  my  position ;  a  man,  armed  to  the 
teeth,  but  wholly  unable  to  fight,  and  equally  so  to  run  away, 
traversing  a  dangerous  wilderness,  on  a  sick  horse.  But  these 
thoughts  were  retrospective,  for  at  the  time  I  was  in  too 
grave  a  mood  to  entertain  a  very  lively  sense  of  the  ludicrous. 

Raymond's  saddle-girth  slipped  ;  and  while  I  proceeded  he 
was  stopping  behind  to  repair  the  mischief.  I  came  to  the  top  of  a 
little  declivity,  where  a  most  welcome  sight  greeted  my  eye  ; 
a  nook  of  fresh  green  grass,  nest  bed  among  the  cliffs,  sunny 
clumps  of  bushes  on  one  side,  and  shaggy  old  pine-trees  lean- 
ins  forward  from  the  rocks  on  the  other.  A  shrill,  familiar 
voice  saluted  me,  and  recalled  me  to  days  of  boyhood  ;  that 
of  the  insect  called  the  '  locust '  by  New-England  schoolboys, 
which  was  fast  clinging  among  the  heated  boughs  of  the  old 
pine-trees.  Then,  too,  as  I  passed  the  bushes,  the  low  sound 
of  falling  water  reached  my  ear.  Pauline  turned  of  her  own 
accord,  and  pushing  through  tte  boughs,  we  found  a  black 
rock,  overarched   by  the  cool  green  canopy.     An   icy  stream 


HUNTING    INDIANS.  219 

was  pouring  from  its  side  into  a  wide  basin  of  white  sand, 
from  whence  it  had  no  visible  outlet,  but  filtered  through 
into  the  soil  below.  While  I  filled  a  tin  cup  at  the  spring, 
Pauline  was  eagerly  plunging  her  head  deep  in  the  pool. 
Other  visitors  had  been  there  before  us.  All  around  in  the 
soft  soil  were  the  footprints  of  elk,  deer,  and  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tain sheep  ;  and  the  grizzly-bear  too  had  left  the  recent  prints 
of  his  broad  foot,  with  its  frightful  array  of  claws.  Among 
these  mountains  was  his  home. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  spring  we  found  a  little  grassy  plain, 
encircled  by  the  mountains,  and  marked,  to  our  great  joy,  with 
all  the  traces  of  an  Indian  camp.  Raymond's  practised  eye 
detected  certain  signs,  by  which  he  recognized  the  spot -where 
Reynal's  lodge  had  been  pitched  and  his  horses  picketed.  I 
approached,  and  stood  looking  at  the  place.  Reynal  and  I  had, 
I  believe,  hardly  a  feeling  in  common.  I  disliked  the  fellow, 
and  it  perplexed  me  a  good  deal  to  understand  why  I  should 
look  with  so  much  interest  on  the  ashes  of  his  fire,  when  be- 
tween him  and  me  there  seemed  no  other  bond  of  sympathy 
than  the  slender  and  precarious  one  of  a  kindred  race. 

In  half  an  hour  from  this  we  were  clear  of  the  mountains. 
There  was  a  plain  before  us,  totally  barren  and  thickly-peopled 
in  many  parts  with  the  little  prairie-dogs,  who  sat  at  the  mouths 
of  their  burrows  and  yelped  at  us  as  we  passed.  The  plain, 
as  we  thought,  was  about  six  miles  wide  ;  but  it  cost  us  two 
hours  to  cross  it.  Then  another  mountain- range  rose  before  us, 
grander  and  more  wild  than  the  last  had  been.  Far  out  of  the 
dense  shubbery  that  clothed  the  steeps  for  a  thousand  feet  shot 
up  black  crags,  all  leaning  one  way,  and  shattered  by  storms 
and  thundci  into  grim  and  threatening  shapes.     As  we  entered 


15" 


220  THE    CALIFOUMA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

a  narrow  passage  on  tlie  trail  of  the  Indians,  they  impended 
frightfully  on  one  side,  above  our  heads. 

Our  course  was  through  dense  woods,  in  the  shade  and 
twinkling  sunlight  of  overhanging  boughs.  I  would  I  could 
recall  to  mind  all  the  startling  combinations  that  presented 
themselves,  as  winding  from  side  to  side  of  the  passage,  to 
avoid  its  obstructions,  we  could  see,  glancing  at  intervals 
through  the  foliage,  the  awful  forms  of  the  gigantic  cliffs,  that 
seemed  at  times  to  hem  us  in  on  the  right  and  on  the  left,  be- 
fore us  and  behind !  Another  scene  in  a  i^ew  moments  greeted 
us ;  a  tract  of  gay  and  sunny  woods,  broken  into  knolls  and 
hollows,  enlivened  by  birds  and  interspersed  with  flowers. 
Among  the  rest  I  recognized  the  mellow  whistle  of  the  robin, 
an  old  familiar  friend,  whom  I  had  scarce  expected  to  meet  in 
such  a  place.  Humble-bees  too  wci'e  buzzing  heavily  about 
the  flowers;  and  of  these  a  species  of  larkspur  caught  my  eye, 
more  appropriate,  it  should  seem,  to  cultivated  gardens  tlian  to 
a  remote  wilderness.  Instantly  it  recalled  a  multitude  of  dor- 
mant and  delightful  recollections. 

Leaving  behind  us  this  spot  and  its  associations,  a  sight 
soon  presented  itself,  characteristic  of  that  warlike  region.  In 
an  open  space,  fenced  in  by  high  rocks,  stood  two  Indian  forts, 
of  a  square  form,  rudely  built  of  sticks  and  logs.  They  were 
somewhat  ruinous,  having  probably  been  constructed  the  year 
before.  Each  might  have  contained  about  twenty  men. 
Perhaps  in  this  gloomy  spot  some  party  had  been  beset  by 
their  enemies,  and  those  scowling  rocks  and  blasted  trees 
might  not  long  since  have  looked  down  on  a  conflict,  un- 
chronicled   and   unknown.      Yet  if  any  traces  of  bloodshed 


HUNTING   INDIANS.  221 

remained  they  were  completely  hidden  by  the  bushes  and  tall 
rank  weeds. 

Gradually  the  mountains  drew  apart,  and  the  passage  ex- 
panded into  a  plain,  where  again  we  found  traces  of  an  Indian 
encampment.  There  were  trees  and  bushes  just  before  us,  and 
we  stopped  here  for  an  hour's  rest  and  refreshment.  When 
we  had  finished  our  meal,  Raymond  struck  fire,  and  lighting 
his  pipe,  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  a  tree  to  smoke.  For  some 
time  I  observed  him  pufiing  away  with  a  face  of  unusual 
solemnity.  Then  slowly  taking  the  pipe  from  his  lips,  he 
looked  up  and  remarked  that  we  had  better  not  go  any 
farther, 

'  Why  not  V  asked  I. 

He  said  that  the  country  was  become  very  dangerous,  that 
we  were  entering  the  range  of  the  Snakes,  Arapahoes,  and 
Gros-ventre  Blackfeet,  and  that  if  any  of  their  wandering  par- 
ties should  meet  us,  it  would  cost  us  our  lives  ;  but  he  added, 
with  a  blunt  fidelity  that  nearly  reconciled  me  to  his  stupidity, 
that  he  would  go  any  where  I  wished.  I  told  him  to  bring  up 
the  animals,  and  mounting  them  we  proceeded  again.  I  confess 
that,  as  we  moved  forward,  the  prospect  seemed  but  a  dreary 
and  doubtful  one.  I  would  have  given  the  world  for  my  ordi- 
nary elasticity  of  body  and  mind,  and  for  a  horse  of  such 
strength  and  spirit  as  the  journey  required. 

Closer  and  closer  the  rocks  gathered  round  us,  growing 
taller  and  steeper,  and  pressing  more  and  more  upon  our  path. 
We  entered  at  length  a  defile  which  I  never  have  seen  rivalled. 
The  mountain  was  cracked  from  top  to  bottom,  and  we  were 
creeping  along  the  bottom  of  the  fissure,  in  dampness  and  gloom, 
with  the  clink  of  hoofs  on  the  loose  shingly  rocks,  and  the  hoarse 


222  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OUEGON    TRAIL. 

murmuring  of  ii  petulant  brook  which  kept  us  company,  yome- 
times  the  water,  foaming  among  the  stones,  overspread  the 
M'hole  narrow  passage ;  sometimes,  withdrawing  to  one  side, 
it  gave  us  room  to  pass  dry-shod.  Looking  up,  we  could  see 
a  narrow  ribbon  of  bright  blue  sky  between  the  dark  edges  of 
the  opposing  cliffs.  This  did  not  last  long.  The  passage  soon 
widened,  and  sunbeams  found  their  way  down,  flashing  upon 
the  black  waters.  The  defile  would  spread  out  to  many  rods 
in  width  ;  bushes,  trees  and  flowers  would  spring  by  the  side  of 
the  brook ;  the  cliffs  would  be  feathered  with  shrubbery,  that 
clung  in  every  crevice,  and  fringed  with  trees,  that  grew  along 
their  sunny  edges.  Then  we  would  be  moving  again  in  the  dark- 
ness. The  passage  seemed  about  four  miles  long,  and  before 
we  reached  the  end  of  it,  the  unshod  hoofs  of  our  animals  were 
lamentably  broken,  and  their  legs  cut  by  the  sharp  stones.  Is- 
suing from  the  mountain  we  found  another  plain.  All  around 
it  stood  a  circle  of  lofty  precipices,  that  seemed  the  impersona- 
tion of  Silence  and  Solitude.  Here  again  the  Indians  had  en- 
camped, as  well  they  might,  after  passing  with  their  women,  chil- 
dren, and  horses,  through  the  gulf  behind  us.  In  one  day  we 
had  made  a  journey  which  had  cost  them  three  to  accomplish. 
The  only  outlet  to  this  amphitheatre  lay  over  a  hill  some 
two  hundred  feet  high,  up  which  we  moved  with  difficulty. 
Looking  from  the  top,  we  saw  that  at  last  we  were  free  of  the 
mountains.  The  prairie  spread  before  us,  but  so  wild  and 
broken  that  the  view  was  every  where  obstructed.  Far  on  our 
left  one  tall  hill  swelled  up  against  the  sky,  on  the  smooth,  pale 
green  surface  of  which  four  slowly  moving  black  specks  were 
discernible.  They  were  evidently  buffalo,  and  we  hailed  the 
sight  as  a  good  augury  ;    for  where  the  buffalo  were,  there  too 


i 


HUNTING    INDIANS.  228 

the  Indians  would  probably  be  found.  We  hoped  on  that  very 
night  to  reach  the  village.  We  were  anxious  to  do  so  for 
a  double  reason,  wishing  to  bring  our  wearisome  journey  to  an 
end,  and  knowing  moreover  that  though  to  enter  the  village  in 
broad  daylight  would  be  a  perfectly  safe  experiment,  yet  to 
encamp  in  its  vicinity  would  be  dangerous.  But  as  we  rode  on, 
the  sun  was  sinking,  and  soon  was  within  half  an  hour  of  the 
horizon.  We  ascended  a  hill  and  looked  round  us  for  a  spot 
for  our  encampment.  The  prairie  was  like  a  turbulent  ocean, 
suddenly  congealed  when  its  waves  were  at  the  highest,  and  it 
lay  half  in  light  and  half  in  shadow,  as  the  rich  sunshine,  yel- 
low as  gold,  was  pouring  over  it.  The  rough  bushes  of  the 
wild  sage  were  growing  every  where,  its  dull  pale-green  over- 
spreading hill  and  hollow.  Yet  a  little  way  before  us,  a  bright 
verdant  line  of  grass  was  winding  along  the  plain,  and  here  and 
there  throughout  its  course  water  was  glistening  darkly.  We 
went  down  to  it,  kindled  a  fire,  and  turned  our  horses  loose  to 
feed.  It  was  a  little  trickling  brook,  that  for  some  yards  on 
either  bank  turned  the  barren  prairie  into  fertility,  and  here  and 
there  it  spread  into  deep  pools,  where  the  beaver  had  dammed 
it  up. 

We  placed  our  last  remaining  piece  of  the  antelope  before 
a  scanty  fire,  mournfully  reflecting  on  our  exhausted  stock  of 
provisions.  Just  then  an  enormous  gray  hare,  peculiar  to  these 
prairies,  came  jumping  along,  and  seated  himself  within  fifty 
yards  to  look  at  us.  I  thoughtlessly  raised  my  rifle  to  shoot 
him,  but  Raymond  called  out  to  me  not  to  fire  for  fear  the  re- 
port should  reach  the  ears  of  the  Indians.  That  night  for  the 
first  time  we  considered  that  the  danger  to  which  we  were 
exposed  was  of  a  somewhat  serious  character ;    and  to  those 


224  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

who  are  unacquainted  with  Indians,  it  may  seem  strange  that 
our  chief  apprehensions  arose  from  the  supposed  proximity  of 
the  people  whom  we  intended  to  visit.  Had  any  straggling  par- 
ty of  these  faithful  friends  eaught  siglit  of  us  from  the  hill-top, 
they  would  probably  have  returned  in  the  night  to  plunder  us 
of  our  horses  and  perhaps  of  our  scalps.  But  we  were  on  the 
prairie,  where  the  genius  loci  is  at  war  with  all  nervous  appre- 
hensions ;  and  I  presume  that  neither  Raymond  nor  I  thought 
twice  of  the  matter  that  evening. 

While  he  was  looking  after  the  animals,  I  sat  by  the  fire 
engaged  in  the  novel  task  of  baking  bread.  The  utensils  were 
of  the  most  simple  and  primitive  kind,  consisting  of  two  sticks 
inclining  over  the  bed  of  coals,  one  end  thrust  into  the  ground 
while  the  dough  was  twisted  in  a  spiral  form  round  the  other. 
Under  such  circumstances  all  the  epicurean  in  a  man's  nature 
is  apt  to  awaken  within  him.  I  revisited  in  fancy  the  far  dis- 
tant abodes  of  good  fare,  not  indeed  Frascati's,  or  the  Trois 
Freres  Provenqaux,  for  that  were  too  extreme  a  flight ;  but  no 
other  than  the  homely  table  of  my  old  friend  and  host,  Tom 
Crawford,  of  the  White  Mountains.  By  a  singular  revulsion, 
Tom  himself,  whom  I  well  remember  to  have  looked  upon  as 
the  impersonation  of  all  that  is  wild  and  backwoodsman-like, 
now  appeared  before  me  as  the  ministering  angel  of  comfort 
and  good  living.  Being  fatigued  and  drowsy,  I  began  to  doze, 
and  my  thoughts,  following  the  same  train  of  association,  as- 
sumed another  form.  Half-dreaming,  I  saw  myself  surrounded 
with  the  mountains  of  New  England,  alive  with  water-falls, 
their  black  crags  cinctured  with  milk-white  mists.  For  this 
reverie  I  paid  a  speedy  penalty ;  for  the  bread  was  black  on 
one  sida  and  soft  on  the  other. 


HUNTING    INDIANS. 


225 


For  eight  hours  Raymond  and  I,  pillowed  on  our  saddles, 
lay  insensible  as  logs.  Pauline's  yellow  head  was  stretched 
over  me  when  I  awoke.  I  got  up  and  examined  her.  Her 
feet  indeed  were  bruised  and  swollen  by  the  accidents  of  yes- 
terday, but  her  eye  was  brighter,  her  motions  livelier,  and  her 
mysterious  malady  had  visibly  abated.  We  moved  on,  hoping 
within  an  hour  to  come  in  sight  of  the  Indian  village  ;  but 
again  disappointment  awaited  us.  The  trail  disappeared,  melt- 
ing away  upon  a  hard  and  stony  plain.  Raymond  and  I  sepa- 
rating, rode  from  side  to  side,  scrutinizing  every  yard  of  ground, 
until  at  length  I  discerned  traces  of  the  lodge-poles,  passing  by 
the  side  of  a  ridge  of  rocks.  We  began  again  to  follow 
them. 

'  What  is  that  black  spot  out  there  on  the  prairie  V 

'  It  looks  like  a  dead  buffalo,'  answered  Raymond. 

We  rode  out  to  it,  and  found  it  to  be  the  huge  carcass  of  a 
bull  killed  by  the  hunters  as  they  had  passed.  Tangled  hair 
and  scraps  of  hide  were  scattered  all  around,  for  the  wolves 
had  been  making  merry  over  it,  and  had  hollowed  out  the  en- 
tire carcass.  It  was  covered  with  myriads  of  large  black 
crickets,  and  from  its  appearance  must  certainly  have  lain  there 
for  four  or  five  days.  The  sight  was  a  most  disheartening  one, 
and  I  observed  to  Raymond  that  the  Indians  might  still  be  fifty 
or  sixty  miles  before  us.  But  he  shook  his  head,  and  replied 
that  they  dared  not  go  so  far  for  fear  of  their  enemies,  the 
Snakes. 

Soon  after  this  we  lost  the  trail  again,  and  ascended  a  neigh- 
boring ridge,  totally  at  a  loss.  Before  us  lay  a  plain  perfectly 
flat,  spreading  on  the  right  and  left,  without  apparent  limit,  and 
bounded  in  front  by  a  long  broken  line  of  hills,  ten  or  twelve 


226         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OKEGON  TRAIL. 

miles  distant.  All  was  open  and  exposed  to  view,  yet  not  a 
butFalo  nor  an  Indian  was  visible. 

'  Do  you  see  that !'  said  Raymond  ;  *  now  we  had  better  turn 
round.' 

But  as  Raymond's  bourgeois  thought  otherwise,  we  descended 
the  hill  and  began  to  cross  the  plain.  We  had  come  so  far  that 
I  knew,  perfectly  well,  neither  Pauline's  limbs  nor  my  own 
could  carry  me  back  to  Fort  Laramie.  I  considered  that  the 
lines  of  expediency  and  inclination  tallied  exactly,  and  that  the 
most  prudent  course  was  to  keep  forward.  The  ground  imme- 
diately around  us  was  thickly  strewn  with  the  skulls  and  bones 
of  buffalo,  for  here  a  year  or  two  before  the  Indians  had  made 
a  '  surround  ;'  yet  no  living  game  presented  itself.  At  length, 
however,  an  antelope  sprang  up  and  gazed  at  us.  We  fired 
together,  and  by  a  singular  fatality  we  both  missed,  although 
the  animal  stood,  a  fair  mark,  within  eighty  yards.  This 
ill  success  might  perhaps  be  charged  to  our  own  eagerness,  for 
by  this  time  we  had  no  provision  left  except  a  little  flour.  We 
could  discern  several  small  lakes,  or  rather  extensive  pools  of 
water,  glistening  in  the  distance.  As  we  approached  them, 
wolves  and  antelope  bounded  away  through  the  tall  grass  that 
grew  in  their  vicinity,  and  flocks  of  large  white  plover  flew 
screaming  over  their  surface.  Having  failed  of  the  antelope, 
Raymond  tried  his  hand  at  the  birds,  with  the  same  ill-success. 
The  water  also  disappointed  us.  Its  muddy  margin  was  so 
beaten  up  by  the  crowd  of  buffalo  that  our  timorous  animals 
were  afraid  to  approach.  So  we  turned  away  and  moved  toward 
the  hills.  The  rank  grass,  where  it  was  not  trampled  down  by 
<he  buffalo,  fairly  swept  our  horses'  necks. 

Again  we  found  the  same  execrable  barren  prairie  offering 


HUNTING   INDIANS.  227 

no  clue  by  which  to  guide  our  way.  As  we  drew  near  the 
hills,  an  opening  appeared,  through  which  the  Indians  must 
have  gone  if  they  had  passed  that  way  at  all.  Slowly  we  be- 
gan  to  ascend  it.  I  felt  the  most  dreary  forebodings  of  ill-suc- 
cess, when  on  looking  round  I  could  discover  neither  dent  of 
hoof,  not  footprint,  nor  trace  of  lodge-pole,  though  the  passage 
wq^  encumbered  by  the  ghastly  skulls  of  buffalo.  We  heard 
thunder  muttering  ;   a  storn  was  coming  on. 

As  we  gained  the  top  of  the  gap,  the  prospect  beyond  began 
to  disclose  itself.  First,  we  saw  a  long  dark  line  of  ragged 
clouds  upon  the  horizon,  while  above  them  rose  the  peak  of  the 
Medicine-Bow,  the  vanguard  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  ;  then 
little  by  little  the  plain  came  into  view,  a  vast  green  uniformity, 
forlorn  and  tenantless,  though  Laramie  Creek  glistened  in  a 
waving  line  over  its  surface,  without  a  bush  or  a  tree  upon  its 
banks.  As  yet,  the  round  projecting  shoulder  of  a  hill  inter- 
cepted a  part  of  the  view.  I  rode  in  advance,  when  suddenly 
1  could  distinguish  a  ^&\v  dark  spots  on  the  prairie,  along  the 
bank  of  the  stream. 

'  Buffalo !'  said  I.  Then  a  sudden  hope  flashed  upon  me, 
and  eagerly  and  anxiously  I  looked  again. 

'  Horses  !'  exclaimed  Raymond,  with  a  tremendous  oath, 
lashing  his  mule  forward  as  he  spoke.  More  and  more  of  the 
plain  disclosed  itself,  and  in  rapid  succession  more  and  more 
horses  appeared,  scattered  along  the  river  bank,  or  feeding  in 
bands  over  the  prairie.  Then,  suddenly  standing  in  a  circle 
by  the  stream,  swarming  with  their  savage  inhabitants,  we  saw 
rising  before  us  the  tall  lodges  of  the  Ogillallah.  Never  did 
the  heart  of  wanderer  more  gladden  at  the  sight  of  home  than 
did  mine  at  the  sight  of  those  wild  habitations  ! 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE     OGILLALAH     VILLAGE. 

"  They  waste  as — ay — like  April  snow, 
In  the  warm  noon,  we  shrink  away ; 
And  fast  they  follow,  as  we  go 
Towards  the  setting  day." 

Bryant. 

Such  a  narrative  as  this  is  hardly  the  place  for  portraying 
the  mental  features  of  the  Indians.  The  same  picture,  slightly 
changed  in  shade  and  coloring,  would  serve  with  very  few 
exceptions  for  all  the  tribes  that  lie  north  of  the  Mexican  terri- 
tories. But  with  this  striking  similarity  in  their  modes  of 
thought,  the  tribes  of  the  lake  and  ocean  shores,  of  the  forests 
and  of  the  plains,  differ  greatly  in  their  manner  of  life. 
Having  been  domesticated  for  several  weeks  among  one  of  tne 
wildest  of  the  Avild  hordes  that  roam  over  the  remote  prairies, 
I  had  extraordinary  opportunities  of  observing  them,  and  I 
flatter  myself  that  a  faithful  picture  of  the  scenes  that  passed 
daily  before  my  eyes  may  not  be  devoid  of  interest  and  value. 
These  men  were  thorough  savages.  Neither  their  manners 
nor  their  ideas  were  in  the  slightest  degree  modified  by  contact 
with  civilization.     They  knew  nothing  of  the  power  and  real 


THE    OGILLALLAH    VILLAGE. 


229 


character  of  the  white  men,  and  their  children  would  scream  in 
terror  at  the  sight  of  me.  Their  religion,  their  superstitions 
and  their  prejudices  were  the  same  that  had  been  handed  down 
to  them  from  immemorial  time.  They  fought  with  the  same 
weapons  that  their  fathers  fought  with,  and  wore  the  same  rude 
garments  of  skins. 

Great  changes  are  at  hand  in  that  region.  With  the  stream 
of  emigration  to  Oregon  and  California,  the  buffalo  will  dwindle 
away,  and  the  large  wandering  communities  who  depend  on 
them  for  support  must  be  broken  and  scattered.  The  Indians 
will  soon  be  corrupted  by  the  example  of  the  whites,  abased  by 
whisky  and  overawed  by  military  posts  ;  so  that  within  a  few 
years  the  traveller  may  pass  in  tolerable  security  through  their 
country.  Its  danger  and  its  charm  will  have  disappeared 
together. 

As  soon  as  Raymond  and  I  discovered  the  village  from  the 
gap  in  the  hills,  we  were  seen  in  our  turn ;  keen  eyes  were 
constantly  on  the  watch.  As  we  rode  down  upon  the  plain, 
the  side  of  the  village  nearest  us  was  darkened  with  a  crowd 
of  naked  figures  gathering  around  the  lodges.  Several  men 
came  forward  to  meet  us.  I  could  distinguish  among  them  the 
green  blanket  of  the  Frenchman  Reynal.  When  we  came  up 
the  ceremony  of  shaking  hands  had  to  be  gone  through  with  in 
due  form,  and  then  all  were  eager  to  know  what  had  become 
of  the  rest  of  my  party.  I  satisfied  them  on  this  point,  and 
we  all  moved  forward  together  toward  the  village. 

'  You've  missed  it,'  said  Reynal  ;  '  if  you'd  been  here  day 
before  yesterday,  you  'd  have  found  the  whole  prairie  over 
yonder  black  with  buffalo  as  far  as  you  could  see.  There  were 
no  cows,  though  ;  nothing  but  bulls.     We  made  a  '  surround  * 


230         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

every  day  till  yesterday.     See  the  village  there  ;    don't  that 
look  like  good  living  V 

In  fact  I  could  see,  even  at  that  distance,  that  long  cords 
were  stretched  from  lodge  to  lodge,  over  which  the  meat, 
cut  by  the  squaws  into  thin  sheets,  was  hanging  to  dry  in  the 
sun.  I  noticed  too  that  the  village  was  somewhat  smaller  than 
when  I  had  last  seen  it,  and  I  asked  Reynal  the  cause.  He 
said  that  old  Le  Borgre  had  felt  too  weak  to  pass  over  the 
mountains,  and  so  had  remained  behind  with  all  his  re 
lations,  including  Mahto-Tatonka  and  his  brothers.  The 
Whirlwind  too  had  been  unwilling  to  come  so  far,  because,  as 
Reynal  said,  he  was  afraid.  Only  half  a  dozen  lodges  had 
adhered  to  him,  the  main-body  of  the  village  setting  their 
chiefs  authority  at  naught,  and  taking  the  course  most  agreea- 
ble to  their  inclinations. 

'  What  chiefs  are  there  in  the  village  now  V  said  I. 

'  Well,'  said  Reynal,  '  there's  old  Red- Water,  and  the 
Eagle-Feather,  and  the  Big  Crow,  and  the  Mad  Wolf  and  the 

Panther,  and  the  White-Shield,  and what's  his  name  ? — the 

half-breed  Shienne.' 

By  this  time  we  were  close  to  the  village,  and  I  observed  that 
while  the  greater  part  of  the  lodges  were  very  large  and  neat 
in  their  appearance,  there  was  at  one  side  a  cluster  of  squalid, 
miserable  huts.  I  looked  toward  them,  and  made  sonje  remark 
about  their  wretched  appearance.  But  I  was  touching  upon 
delicate  ground. 

'  My  squaw's  relations  live  in  those  lodges,'  said  Reynal, 
very  warmly, '  and  there  isn't  a  better  set  in  the  whole  village.' 

'Are  there  any  chiefs  among  them  V  asked  I. 

*  Chiefs  V  said  Reynal ;  '  yes,  plenty  !' 


THE  OGILLALLAH  VILLAGE.  231 

*  What  are  their  names  V  I  inquired. 

'  Their  names  ?  Why,  there's  the  Arrow-Head.  If  he 
*sn't  a  chief  he  ought  to  be  one.  And  there's  the  Hail-Storm. 
He's  nothing  but  a  boy,  to  be  sure  ;  but  he's  bound  to  be  a  chief 
one  of  these  days  !'  * 

Just  then  we  passed  between  two  of  the  lodges,  and  entered 
the  great  area  of  the  village.  Superb,  naked  figures  stood 
silently  gazing  on  us. 

'  Where's  the  Bad  Wound's  lodge  V  said  I  to  Reynal. 

'  There  you've  missed  it  again !  The  Bad  Wound  is  away 
with  the  Whirlwind.  If  you  could  have  found  him  here,  and 
gone  to  live  in  his  lodge,  he  would  have  treated  you  better  than 
any  man  iu  the  village.  But  there's  the  Big  Crow's  lodge 
yonder,  next  to  old  Red-Water's.  He's  a  good  Indian  for  the 
whites,  and  I  advise  you  to  go  and  live  with  him.' 

'  Aie  there  many  squaws  and  children  in  his  lodge  V  said  I. 

'  No  j"  only  one  squaw  and  two  or  three  children.  He 
keeps  the  rest  in  a  separate  lodge  by  themselves.' 

So,  still  followed  by  a  crowd  of  Indians,  Raymond  and  I 
rode  up  to  the  entrance  of  the  Big  Crow's  lodge.  A  squaw 
came  out  Immediately  and  took  our  horses.  I  put  aside  the 
leather  flap  that  covered  the  low  opening,  and  stooping,  entered 
the  Big  Crow's  dwelling.  There  I  could  see  the  chief  in  the 
dim  light,  seated  at  one  side,  on  a  pile  of  buffalo-robes.  He 
greeted  me  with  a  guttural  '  How,  cola !'  I  requested  Reynal 
to  tell  him  that  Raymond  and  I  were  come  to  live  with  him. 
The  Big  Crow  gave  another  low  exclamation.  If  the  reader 
thinks  that  we  were  intruding  somewhat  cavalierly,  I  beg  him 
to  observe  that  every  Indian  in  the  village  would  have  deemed 


OGILLALLAH    INDIAN. 


232  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

himself  honored  that  white  men  should  give  such  preference  to 
his  hospitality. 

The  squaw  spread  a  buffalo-robe  for  us  in  the  guest's  place 
at  the  head  of  the  lodge.  Our  saddles  were  brought  in,  and 
scarcely  were  we  seated  upon  them  before  the  place  was 
thronged  with  Indians,  who  came  crowding  in  to  see  us.  The 
Big  Crow  produced  his  pipe  and  filled  it  with  the  mixture  of 
tobacco  and  shongsasha,  or  red  willow  bark.  Round  and  round 
it  passed,  and  a  lively  conversation  went  forward.  Meanwhile 
a  squaw  placed  before  the  two  guests  a  wooden  bowl  of  boiled 
buffalo-meat,  but  unhappily  this  was  not  the  only  banquet  des- 
tined to  be  inflicted  on  us.  Rapidly,  one  after  another,  boys 
and  young  squaws  thrust  their  heads  in  at  the  opening,  to 
invite  us  to  various  feasts  in  different  parts  of  the  village.  For 
half  an  hour  or  more  we  were  actively  engaged  in  passing  from 
lodge  to  lodge,  tasting  in  each  of  the  bowl  of  meat  set  before 
us,  and  inhaling  a  whiff  or  two  from  our  entertainer's  pipe. 
A  thunder-storm  that  had  been  threatening  for  some  time  now 
began  in  good  earnest.  We  crossed  over  to  Reynal's  lodge, 
though  it  hardly  deserved  this  name,  for  it  consisted  only  of 
a  few  old  buffalo-robes,  supported  on  poles,  and  was  quite  open 
on  one  side.  Here  we  sat  down,  and  the  Indians  gathered 
round  us. 

'  What  is  it,'  said  I,  '  that  makes  the  thunder  ?' 

'  It's  my  belief,'  said  Reynal,  '  that  it  is  a  big  stone  rolling 
over  the  sky.' 

'  Very  likely,'  I  replied  ;  '  but  I  want  to  know  what  the 
Indians  think  about  it.' 

So  he  interpreted  my  question,  which  seemed  to  produce 
some  doubt  and  debate.     There  was  evidently  a  difference  of 


THE  OGILLALLAH  VILLAGE.  233 

opinion.  At  last  old  Mene-Seela,  or  Red-Water,  who  sat  by 
himself  at  one  side,  looked  up  with  his  withered  face,  and  said 
he  had  always  known  what  the  thunder  was.  It  was  a  great 
black  bird  ;  and  once  he  had  seen  it,  in  a  dream,  swooping 
down  from  the  Black  Hills,  with  its  loud  roaring  wings  ;  and 
when  it  flapped  them  over  a  lake,  they  struck  lightning  from 
the  water.' 

'  The  thunder  is  bad,'  said  another  old  man,  who  sat  muffled 
m  his  buffalo-robe  ;  '  he  killed  my  brother  last  summer.' 

Reynal,  at  my  request,  asked  for  an  explanation  ;  but  the 
old  man  remained  doggedly  silent,  and  would  not  look  up. 
Some  time  after,  I  learned  how  the  accident  occurred.  The 
man  who  was  killed  belonged  to  an  association  which,  among 
otlier  mystic  functions,  claimed  the  exclusive  power  and  privi- 
lege of  fighting  the  thunder.  Whenever  a  storm  which  they 
wished  to  avert  was  threatening,  the  thunder  fighters  would 
take  their  bows  and  arrows,  their  guns,  their  magic  drum,  and 
a  sort  of  whistle,  made  out  of  the  wing-bone  of  the  war-eagle. 
Thus  equipped,  they  would  run  out  and  fire  at  the  rising  cloud, 
whooping,  yelling,  whistling  and  beating  their  drum,  to  frighten 
it  down  again.  One  afternoon,  a  heavy  black  cloud  was 
coming  up,  and  they  repaired  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  where  they 
brought  all  their  magic  artillery  into  play  against  it.  But 
the  undaunted  thunder,  refusing  to  be  terrified,  kept  moving 
straight  onward,  and  darted  out  a  bright  flash  which  struck 
one  of  the  party  dead,  as  he  was  in  the  very  act  of  shakinf^ 
his  long  iron-pointed  lance  against  it.  The  rest  scattered  and 
ran  yelling  in  an  ecstasy  of  superstitious  terror  back  to  their 
lodges. 

The  lodge  of  my  host  Kongra  Tonga,  or  the  Big  Crow, 


16" 


234  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

presentod  a  picturesque  spectacle  that  evening.     A  score  or 
more  of  Indians  were  seated  around  it  in  a  circle,  their  dark 
naked  forms  just  visible  by  the  dull  light  of  the  smouldering 
fire  in  the  centre.     The  pipe  glowing  brightly  in  the  gloom  as 
it  passed  from  hand  to  hand  round  the  lodge.     Tiien  a  squaw 
would  drop  a  piece  of  buffalo-fat  on  the  dull  embers.    Instantly 
a  bright  glancing  flame  would  leap  up,  darting  its  clear  light 
to  the  very  apex  of  the  tall  conical  structure,  where  the  tops 
of  the  slender  poles  that  supported  its  covering  of  leather  were 
gathered  together.     It  gilded  the  features  of  the  Indians,  as 
with  animated  gestures  they  sat  around  it,  telling  their  endless 
stories  of  war  and  hunting.     It  displayed  rude  garments  of 
skins  that  hung  around  the  lodge  ;  the  bow,  quiver  and  lance, 
suspended  over  the  resting-place  of  the  chief,  and  the  rifles  and 
powder-horns   of  the   two  white  guests.      For  a  moment  all 
would  be  bright  as  day  ;  then  the  flames  would  die  away,  and 
fitful  flashes  from  the  embers  would  illumine  the  lodge,  and  then 
leave  it  in  darkness.     Then  all  the  light  would  wholly  fade, 
and  the  lodge  and  all  within  it  be  involved  again  in  obscurity. 

As  I  left  the  lodge  next  morning,  I  was  saluted  by  howling 
and  yelping  from  all  around  the  village,  and  half  its  canine 
population  rushed  forth  to  the  attack.  Being  as  cowardly  as  they 
were  clamorous,  they  kept  jumping  around  me  at  the  distance 
of  a  few  yards,  only  one  little  cur,  about  ten  inches  long,  having 
spirit  enough  to  make  a  direct  assault.  He  dashed  valiantly 
at  the  leather  tassel  which  in  the  Dahcotah  fashion  was  trailing 
behind  the  heel  of  my  moccason,  and  kept  liis  hold,  growling 
and  snarling  all  the  while,  though  every  step  I  made  almost 
jerked  him  over  on  his  back.  As  I  knew  that  the  eyes  of  the 
v»  hole  village  were  on  the  watch  to  see  if  I  showed  any  sign  of 


THE    OGILLALLAH   VILLAGE.  235 

apprehension,  I  walked  forward  without  looking  to  the  right  or 
left,  surrounded  wherever  I  went  by  this  magic  circle  of  dogs. 
When  I  came  to  Reynal's  lodge  I  sat  down  by  it,  on  which  the 
dogs  dispersed  growling  to  their  respective  quarters.  Only 
one  large  white  one  remained,  who  kept  running  about  before 
me  and  showing  his  teeth.  I  called  him,  but  he  only  growled 
the  more.  I  looked  at  him  well.  He  was  fat  and  sleek  ;  just 
such  a  dog  as  I  wanted.  '  My  friend,'  thought  I,  '  you  shall 
pay  for  this  !     I  will  have  you  eaten  this  very  morning !' 

I  intended  that  day  to  give  the  Indians  a  feast,  by  way  of 
conveying  a  favorable  impression  of  my  character  and  dignity ; 
and  a  white  dog  is  the  dish  which  the  customs  of  the  Dahcotah 
prescribe  for  all  occasions  of  formality  and  importance.  I  con- 
sulted Reynal ;  he  soon  discovered  that  an  old  woman  in  the 
next  lodge  was  owner  of  the  white  dog.  I  took  a  gaudy  cotton 
handkerchief,  and  laying  it  on  the  ground,  arranged  some  ver- 
milion, beads,  and  other  trinkets  upon  it.  Then  the  old  squaw 
was  summoned.  I  pointed  to  the  dog  and  to  the  handkerchief. 
She  gave  a  scream  of  delight,  snatched  up  the  prize  and  van- 
ished with  it  into  her  lodge.  For  a  few  more  trifles,  I  engaged 
the  services  of  two  other  squaws,  each  of  whom  took  the  white 
dog  by  one  of  his  paws,  and  led  him  away  behind  the  lodges, 
while  he  kept  looking  up  at  them  with  a  face  of  innocent  sur- 
prise.    Having  killed  him  they  threw  him  into  a  fire  to  singe ; 

then  chopped  him  up  and  put  him  into  two  large  kettles  to  boil. 

Meanwhile  I  told  Raymond  to  fry  in  buffalo  fat  what  little  flour 

we  had  left,  and  also  to  make  a  kettle  of  tea  as   an  additional 

item  of  the  repast. 

The  Big  Crow's  squaw  was  briskly  at  work  sweeping  out 

the  lodge  for  the  approaching  festivity.     I  confided  to  my  host 


286  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

himself  the  task  of  inviting  the  guests,  thinking  that  I  might 
thereby  shift  from  my  own  shoulders  the  odium  of  fancied  neg- 
lect and  oversight. 

When  feasting  is  in  question,  one  hour  of  the  day  serves  an 
Indian  as  well  as  another.     My  entertainment  came  off  about 
eleven  o'clock.     At  that  hour,  Reynal  and  Raymond  walked 
across  the  area  of  the  village,  to  the  admiration  of  the  inhabit- 
ants, carrying  the  two  kettles  of  dog  meat  slung  on  a  pole  be- 
tween them.     These  they  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  lodge, 
and  then  went  back  for  the  bread  and  the  tea.     Meanwhile  I 
had  put  on  a  pair  of  brilliant  moccasons,  and  substituted  for  my 
old   buck-skin  frock   a  coat  which  I  had  brought  with  me  in 
view  of  such  public  occasions.     I  also  made  careful  use  of  the 
razor,  an  operation  which  no  man  will  neglect  who  desires  to 
gain  the  good  opinion  of  Indians.     Thus  attired,  I  seated  my- 
self between  Reynal  and   Raymond  at  the  head  of  the  lodge. 
Only  a  few  minutes  elapsed  before  all  the  guests  had  come  in 
and  were  seated  on  the  ground,  wedged  together  in  a  close  cir- 
cle around  the  lodge.     Each  brought  with  him  a  wooden  bowl 
to  hold  his  share  of  the  repast.     When  all  were  assem.bled, 
two  of  the  officials,  called  '  soldiers  '  by  the  white  men,  came 
forward  with  ladles  made  of  the  horn  of  the  Rock)'  Mountain 
sheep,  and   began  to  distribute  the  feast,  always  assigning  a 
double  share  to  the  old  men  and  chiefs.     The  dog  vanished 
with  astonishing  celerity,  and  each  guest  turned  his  dish  bottom 
upward  to  show  that  all  was  gone.     Then  the  bread  was  dis- 
tributed in  its  turn,  and  finally  the  tea.     As  the  soldiers  poured 
it  out  into  the  same  wooden  bowls  that  had  served  for  the  sub- 
stantial part  of  the  meal,  I  thought  it  had  a  particularly  curious 
and  uninvitinjj  color. 


THE  OGILLALLAH  VILLAGE.  237 

*  Oh  !'  said  Reynal,  '  there  was  not  tea  enough,  so  I  stirred 
some  soot  in  the  kettle,  to  make  it  look  strong.' 

Fortunately  an  Indian's  palate  is  not  very  discriminat- 
ing. The  tea  was  well  sweetened,  and  that  was  all  they  cared 
for. 

Now,  the  former  part  of  the  entertainment  being  concluded, 
the  time  for  speech-making  was  come.  The  Big  Crow  produced 
a  flat  piece  of  wood  on  which  he  cut  up  tobacco  and  shongsasha, 
and  mixed  them  in  due  proportions.  The  pipes  were  filled  and 
passed  from  hand  to  hand  around  the  company.  Then  I  began 
my  speech,  each  sentence  being  interpreted  by  Reynal  as  I 
went  on,  and  echoed  by  the  whole  audience  with  the  usual  ex- 
clamations of  assent  and  approval.  As  nearly  as  I  can  recol- 
lect, it  was  as  follows : 

'  I  had  come,  I  told  them,  from  a  country  so  far  distant, 
that  at  the  rate  they  travel,  they  could  not  reach  it  in  a 
year.' 

'How!  how!' 

'  There  the  Meneaska  Avere  more  numerous  than  the  blades 
of  grass  on  the  prairie.  The  squaws  were  far  more  beautiful 
than  any  they  had  ever  seen,  and  all  the  men  were  brave  war- 
riors.' 

'  How  !  how  !  how  ! 

Here  I  was  assailed  by  sharp  twinges  of  conscience,  for 
I  fancied  I  could  perceive  a  fragrance  of  perfumery  in  the 
air,  and  a  vision  rose  before  me  of  white-kid  gloves  and  silken 
moustaches  with  the  mild  and  gentle  countenances  of  numerous 
fair-haired  young  men.  But  I  recovered  myself  and  began 
again. 

'  While  I  was  living  in  the  Meneaska  lodges,  I  had  heard 


288  niE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

of  the  Ogillallah,  how  great  and  brave  a  nation  they  were,  how 
they  loved  the  whites,  and  how  well  they  could  hunt  the  buffalo 
and  strike  their  eneniies.  I  resolved  to  come  and  see  if  all  that 
I  heard  was  true.' 

'  How  !  how  !  how  !  how  !' 

'  As  1  had  come  on  horseback  through  the  mountains,  I  had 
been  able  to  bring  them  only  a  very  few  presents.' 

'  How  !' 

'  But  I  had  enough  tobacco  to  give  them  all  a  small  piece. 
They  might  smoke  it,  and  see  how  much  better  it  was  than  the 
tobacco  which  they  got  from  the  traders.' 

'  How  !  how  !  how  !' 

*•'!  had  plenty  of  powder,  lead,  knives,  and  tobacco  at  Fort 
Laramie.  These  I  was  anxious  to  give  them,  and  if  any  of 
them  should  come  to  the  fort  before  I  went  away,  I  would  make 
them  handsome  presents.' 

'  How  !  how  !  how  !  how  !' 

Raymond  then  cut  up  and  distributed  among  them  two 
or  three  pounds  of  tobacco,  and  old  Mene-Seela  began  to  make 
a  reply.  It  was  quite  long,  but  the  following  was  the  pith 
of  it. 

'  He  had  always  loved  the  whites.  They  were  the  wisest 
people  on  earth.  He  believed  they  could  do  every  thing,  and 
he  was  always  glad  when  any  of  them  came  to  live  in  the 
Ogillallah  lodges.  It  was  true  I  had  not  made  them  many 
presents,  but  the  reason  of  it  was  plain.  It  was  clear  that  I 
liked  them,  or  I  never  should  have  come  so  far  to  find  their 
village.' 

Several  other  speeches  of  similar  import  followed,  and  then 
this  more  serious  matter  being  disposed  of,  there  was  an  inter- 


THE    OGILLALLAH    VILLAGE.  239 

val  of  smoking,  laughing  and  conversation ;  but  old  Mene- 
Seela  suddenly  interrupted  it  with  a  loud  voice : 

'  Now  is  a  good  time,'  he  said,  '  when  all  the  old  men  and 
chiefs  are  here  together,  to  decide  what  the  people  shall  do. 
We  came  over  the  mountain  to  make  our  lodges  for  next  year. 
Our  old  ones  are  good  for  nothing  ;  they  are  rotten  and  worn 
out.  But  we  have  been  disappointed.  We  have  killed  buffalo 
bulls  enough,  but  we  have  found  no  herds  of  cows,  and  the 
skins  of  bulls  are  too  thick  and  heavy  for  our  squaws  to  make 
lodges  of  There  must  be  plenty  of  cows  about  the  Medicine 
Bow  Mountain.  We  ought  to  go  there.  To  be  sure  it  is 
farther  westward  than  we  have  ever  been  before,  and  perhaps 
the  Snakes  will  attack  us,  for  those  hunting-grounds  belong  to 
them.  But  we  must  have  new  lodges  at  any  rate  ;  our  old 
ones  will  not  serve  for  another  year.  We  ought  not  to  be 
afraid  of  the  Snakes.  Our  warriors  are  brave,  and  they  are 
all  ready  for  war.  Besides,  we  have  three  white  men  with  their 
rifles  to  help  us.' 

I  could  not  help  thinking  that  the  old  man  relied  a  little  too 
much  on  the  aid  of  allies,  one  of  whom  was  a  coward,  another 
a  blockhead,  and  the  third  an  invalid.  This  speech  produced 
a  good  deal  of  debate.  As  Reynal  did  not  interpret  what  was 
said,  I  could  only  judge  of  the  meaning  by  the  features  and 
gestures  of  the  speakers.  At  the  end  of  it  however  the  greater 
number  seemed  to  have  fallen  in  with  Mene-Seela's  opinion. 
A  short  silence  followed,  and  then  the  old  man  struck  up  a 
discordant  chant,  which  I  was  told  was  a  song  of  thanks  for 
the  entertainment  I  had  given  them. 

'  Now,'  said  he,  '  let  us  go  and  give  the  white  men  a  chance 
to  breathe.' 


240  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

So  the  company  all  dispersed  into  the  open  air,  and  for 
some  time  the  old  ciiief  was  walking  round  the  village,  singing 
his  song  in  praise  of  the  feast,  after  the  usual  custom  of  the 
nation. 

At  last  the  day  drew  to  a  close,  and  as  the  sun  went  down 
the  liorses  came  trooping  from  the  surrounding  plains  to  be 
picketed  before  the  dwellings  of  their  respective  masters. 
Soon  within  the  great  circle  of  lodges  appeared  another 
concentric  circle  of  restless  horses;  and  here  and  there  fires 
were  glowing  and  flickering  amid  the  gloom,  on  the  dusky 
figures  around  them.  1  went  over  and  sat  by  the  lodge  of 
Reynal.  Tiie  Eagle-Feather,  who  was  a  son  of  Mene-Seela, 
and  brother  of  my  host  the  Big  Crow,  was  seated  there  already, 
and  I  asked  him  if  the  village  would  move  in  the  morning. 
He  shook  his  head,  and  said  that  nobody  could  tell,  for  since 
old  Mahto-Tatonka  had  died,  the  people  had  been  like  children 
that  did  not  know  their  own  minds.  They  were  no  better  than 
a  body  without  a  head.  So  I,  as  well  as  the  Indians  them- 
selves, fell  asleep  that  night  without  knowing  whether  we 
should  set  out  in  the  morning  toward  the  country  of  the  Snakes. 

At  daybreak  however,  as  I  was  coming  up  from  the  river 
after  my  morning's  ablutions,  I  saw  that  a  movement  was  con- 
templated. Some  of  the  lodges  were  reduced  to  nothing  but 
bare  skeletons  of  poles ;  the  leather  covering  of  others  was 
flapping  in  the  wind  as  the  squaws  were  pulling  it  off.  One 
or  two  chi^s  of  note  had  resolved,  it  seemed,  on  moving  ;  and 
so  having  set  their  squaws  at  work,  the  example  was  tacitly 
followed  by  the  rest  of  the  village.  One  by  one  the  lodges 
were  sinking  down  in  rapid  succession,  and  where  the  great 
circle  of  the  village  had  been  only  a  moment  before,  nothing 


THE  OGILLALLAH  VILLAGE.  241 

now  remained  but  a  ring  of  horses  and  Indians,  crowded  in 
confusion  togetlier.  The  ruins  of  the  lodges  were  spread  over 
the  ground,  together  with  kettles,  stone  mallets,  great  ladles  of 
horn,  buffalo-robes,  and  cases  of  painted  hide,  filled  with  dried 
meat.  Squaws  bustled  about  in  their  busy  preparations,  the 
old  hags  screaming  to  one  another  at  the  stretch  of  their 
leathern  lungs.  The  shaggy  horses  were  patiently  standing 
while  the  lodge-poles  were  lashed  to  their  sides,  and  the  bag- 
gage piled  upon  their  .backs.  The  dogs  with  their  tongues 
lolling  out,  lay  lazily  panting,  and  waiting  for  the  time  of 
departure.  Each  wai'rior  sat  on  the  ground  by  the  decaying 
embers  of  his  fire,  unmoved  amid  all  the  confusion,  while  he 
held  in  his  hand  the  long  trail-rope  of  his  horse. 

As  their  preparations  were  contemplated,  each  family  moved 
off  the  ground.  The  crowd  was  rapidly  melting  away.  I 
could. see  them  crossing  the  river,  and  passing  in  quick  suc- 
cession along  the  profile  of  the  hill  on  the  farther  bank.  When 
all  were  gone,  I  mounted  and  set  out  after  them,  followed  by 
Raymond,  and  as  we  gained  the  summit,  the  whole  village 
came  in  view  at  once,  straggling  away  for  a  mile  or  more  over 
the  barren  plains  before  us.  Every  where  the  iron  points  ol 
lanoes  were  glittering.  The  sun  never  shone  upon  a  more 
strange  array.  Here  were  the  heavy-laden  pack-horses,  some 
wretched  old  woman  leading  them,  and  two  or  three  children 
clinging  to  their  backs.  Here  were  mules  or  ponies  covered 
from  head  to  tail  with  gaudy  trappings,  and  mounted  by  some 
gay  young  squaw,  grinning  bashfulness  and  pleasure  as  the 
Mcneaska  looked  at  her.  Boys  with  miniature  bows  and 
arrows  were  wandering  over  the  plains,  little  naked  children 
wc^e  running  along  on  foot,  and  numberless  dogs  were  scam- 


242  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OKEGON    TRAIL. 

pering  amonfr  the  feet  of  the  horses.  Tlic  young  braves,  gaudy 
witn  paint  and  feathers,  were  riding  in  gi'oups  among  the 
crowd,  and  often  galloping,  two  or  three  at  once  along  the  line, 
to  try  the  speed  of  their  horses.  Here  and  there  you  might 
see  a  rank  of  sturdy  pedestrians  stalking  along  in  their  white 
buflalo-robes.  These  were  the  dignitaries  of  the  village,  the 
old  men  and  warriors,  to  whose  age  and  experience  that  wan- 
dering democracy  yielded  a  silent  deference.  With  the  rough 
prairie  and  the  broken  hills  for  its  back-ground,  the  restless 
scene  was  striking  and  picturesque  beyond  description.  Days 
and  weeks  made  me  familiar  with  it,  but  never  impaired  its 
effect  upon  my  fancy. 

As  we  moved  on,  the  broken  column  grew  yet  more  scat- 
tered and  disorderly,  until,  as  we  approached  the  foot  of  a  hill, 
I  saw  the  old  men  before  mentioned  seating  themselves  in  a 
line  upon  the  ground,  in  advance  of  the  whole.  They  lighted 
a  pipe  and  sat  smoking,  laughing,  and  telling  stories,  while  the 
people,  stopping  as  they  successively  came  up,  were  soon 
gathered  in  a  crowd  behind  them.  Then  the  old  men  rose, 
drew  their  buffalo-robes  over  their  shoulders,  and  strode  on  as 
before.  Gaining  the  top  of  the  hill,  we  found  a  very  steep 
declivity  before  us.  Thei'e  was  not  a  minute's  pause.  The 
whole  descended  in  a  mass,  amid  dust  and  confusion.  The 
horses  braced  their  feet  as  they  slid  down,  women  and  children 
were  screaming,  dogs  yelping  as  they  were  troduen  upon, 
while  stones  and  earth  wtnt  rolling  to  the  bottom.  In  a  few 
moments  I  could  see  the  village  from  the  summit,  spreading 
again  far  and  wide  over  the  plain  below. 

At  our  encampment  that  afternoon  I  was  attacked  anew  by 
my  old  disorder.     In  half  an  hour  the  strength  that  I  had  been 


THE    OGILLALLAH    VILLAGE.  243 

gaining  for  a  week  past  had  vanished  again,  and  I  became  like 
a  man  in  a  dream.  But  at  sunset  I  lay  down  in  the  Big 
Crow's  lodge  and  slept,  totally  unconscious  ti.l  the  morning. 
The  first  thing  that  awakened  me  was  a  hoarse  flapping  over 
my  head,  and  a  sudden  light  that  poured  in  upon  me.  The 
camp  was  breaking  up,  and  the  squaws  were  moving  the 
covering  from  the  lodge.  I  arose  and  shook  off  my  blanket 
with  the  feeling  of  perfect  health  ;  but  scarcely  had  I  gained 
my  feet  when  a  sense  of  my  helpless  condition  was  once  more 
forced  upon  me,  and  I  found  myself  scarcely  able  to  stand. 
Raymond  had  brought  up  Pauline  and  the  mule,  and  I  stooped 
to  raise  my  saddle  from  the  gronnd.  My  strength  was  quite 
inadequate  to  the  task.  '  You  must  saddle  her,'  said  I  to  Ray- 
mond, as  I  sat  down  again  on  a  pile  of  buffalo-robes  : 

"  Et  haee  etiam  fortasse  raeminisse  juvabit," 

I  thought,  while  with  a  painful  effort  I  raised  myself  into  the 
saddle.  Half  an  hour  after,  even  the  expectation  that  Virgil's 
line  expressed  seemed  destined  to  disappointment.  As  we 
were  passing  over  a  great  plain,  surrounded  by  long  broken 
ridges,  I  I'ode  slowly  in  advance  of  the  Indians^  with  thoughts 
that  wandered  far  from  the  time  and  from  the  place.  Suddenly 
the  sky  darkened,  and  thunder  began  to  mutter.  Clouds  Avere 
rising  over  the  hi-lls,  as  dreary  and  dull  as  the  first  forebodings 
of  an  approaching  calamity ;  and  in  a  moment  all  around  was 
wrapped  in  shadow.  I  looked  behind.  The  Indians  had 
stopped  to  prepare  for  the  approaching  storm,  and  the  dark, 
dense  mass  of  savages  stretched  far  to  the  right  and  left.  Since 
the  first  attack  of  my  disorder  the  effects  of  rain  upon  me  had 
usually  been  injurious  in  the  extreme.     I  had  no  strength  to 


244  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

spare,  havinj:!;  at  that  moment  scarcely  enough  to  keep  my  seat 
on  horseback.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  it  pressed  upon  me  as 
a  strong  probability  that  I  might  never  leave  those  deserts. 
'  Well,'  thought  I  to  myself,  '  a  prairie  makes  quick  and  sharp 
work.  Better  to  die  here,  in  the  saddle  to  the  last,  than  to 
stifle  in  the  hot  air  of  a  sick  chamber ;  and  a  thousand  times 
better  than  to  drag  out  life,  as  many  have  done,  in  the  helpless 
inaction  of  lingering  disease.'  So,  drawing  the  bufialo-robe  on 
which  I  sat,  over  my  head,  I  waited  till  the  storm  should  come. 
It  broke  at  last  with  a  sudden  burst  of  fury,  and  passing  away 
as  rapidly  as  it  came,  left  the  sky  clear  again.  My  reflections 
served  me  no  other  purpose  than  to  look  back  upon  as  a  piece 
of  curious  experience  ;  for  the  rain  did  not  produce  the  ill 
effects  that  I  had  expected.  We  encamped  within  an  hour. 
Having  no  change  of  clothes,  I  contrived  to  borrow  a  curious 
kind  of  substitute  from  Reynal  ;  and  this  done,  I  went  home, 
that  is,  to  the  Big  Crow's  lodge,  to  make  the  entire  transfer 
that  was  necessary.  Half  a  dozen  squaws  were  in  the  lodge, 
and  one  of  them  taking  my  arm  held  it  against  her  own,  while 
a  general  laugh  and  scream  of  admiration  was  raised  at  the 
contrast  in  the  color  of  the  skin. 

Our  encampment  that  afternoon  was  not  far  distant  from  a 
spur  of  the  Black  Hills,  whose  ridges,  bristling  with  fir  trees, 
rose  from  the  plains  a  mile  or  two  on  our  right.  That  they 
might  move  more  rapidly  toward  their  proposed  hunting- 
grounds,  the  Indians  determined  to  leave  at  this  place  their 
stock  of  dried  meat  and  other  superfluous  articles.  Some  left 
even  their  lodges,  and  contented  themselves  with  carrying  a 
few  hides  to  make  a  shelter  from  the  sun  and  rain.  Half  tho 
inhabitants  set  out  in  the  afternoon,  with  loaded  pack-horses, 


THE  OGILLALLAH  VILLAGE.  245 

toward  the  mounts  ins.  Here  Uiey  suspended  the  dried  meat 
upon  trees,  where  the  wolves  and  grizzly  bears  could  not  get 
at  it.  All  returned  at  evening.  Some  of  the  young  men  de- 
clared that  they  had  heard  the  reports  of  guns  among  the 
mountains  to  the  eastward,  and  many  surmises  were  thrown 
out  as  to  the  origin  of  these  sounds.  For  my  part,  I  was  in 
hopes  that  Shaw  and  Henry  Chatillon  were  coming  to  join  us. 
I  would  have  welcomed  them  cordially,  for  I  had  no  other 
companions  than  two  brutish  white  men  and  five  hundred 
savages.  I  little  suspected  that  at  that  very  moment  my 
unlucky  comrade  was  lying  on  a  buffalo-robe  at  Fort  Laramie, 
fevered  with  ivy  poison,  and  solacing  his  woes  with  tobacco 
and  Shakspeare. 

As  we  moved  over  the  plains  on  the  next  morning,  several 
young  men  were  riding  about  the  country  as  scouts ;  and  at 
length  we  began  to  see  them  occasionally  on  the  tops  of  the  hills, 
shaking  their  robes  as  a  signal  that  they  saw  buffalo.  Soon 
after,  some  bulls  came  in  sight.  Horsemen  darted  away  in 
pursuit,  and  we  could  see  from  the  distance  that  one  or  two  of 
the  buffalo  were  killed.  Raymond  suddenly  became  inspired. 
I  looked  at  him  as  he  rode  by  my  side  ;  his  face  had  actually 
grown  intelligent ! 

*  This  is  the  country  for  me  !'  he  said  ;  *  if  I  could  only 
carry  the  buffalo  that  are  killed  here  every  month  down  to  St. 
Louis,  Fd  make  my  fortune  in  one  winter.  Fd  grow  as  rich 
as  old  Papin,  or  Mackenzie  either.  I  call  this  the  poor  man's 
market.  When  Fm  hungry,  I  have  only  got  to  take  my  rifle 
and  go  out  and  get  better  meat  than  the  rick  folks  down  below 
can  get,  with  all  their  money.  You  won't  catch  me  living  in 
St.  Louis  another  winter.' 


246  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

'  No,'  said  Reynal,  '  you  had  better  say  that,  after  you  and 
your  Spanish  woman  almost  starved  to  death  there.  What  a 
fool  you  were  ever  to  take  her  to  the  settlements.' 

'  Your  Spanish  woman  V  said  1 ;  '  I  never  heard  of  her  be- 
fore.     Are  you  married  to  her  V 

'  No,'  answered  Raymond,  again  looking  intelligent ;  *  the 
priests  don't  marry  their  women,  and  why  should  I  marry 
mine  ?' 

This  honorable  mention  of  the  Mexican  clergy  introduced 
the  subject  of  religion,  and  I  found  that  my  two  associates,  in 
common  with  other  white  men  in  the  country,  were  as  indifferent 
to  their  future  welfare  as  men  whose  lives  are  in  constant  peril 
arc  apt  to  be.  Raymond  had  never  heard  of  the  Pope.  A 
certain  bishop,  who  lived  at  Taos  or  at  Santa  Fe,  embodied  his 
loftiest  idea  of  an  ecclesiastical  dignitary.  Reynal  observed 
that  a  priest  had  been  at  Fort  Laramie  two  years  ago,  on  his 
way  to  the  Nez  Perce  mission,  and  that  he  had  confessed  all  the 
men  there,  and  given  them  absolution.  '  I  got  a  good  clearing 
out  myself,  that  time,'  said  Reynal,  '  and  I  reckon  that  will  do 
for  me  till  I  go  down  to  the  settlements  again.' 

Here  he  interrupted  himself  with  an  oath,  and  exclaimed : 
*  Look  !  look  !     The  "  Panther  "  is  running  an  antelope  !' 

The  Panther,  on  his  black-and-white  horse,  one  of  the  best 
in  the  village,  came  at  full  speed  over  the  hill  in  hot  pursuit  of 
an  antelope,  that  darted  away  like  lightning  before  him.  The 
attempt  was  made  in  mere  sport  and  bravado,  for  very  few  are 
the  horses  that  can  for  a  moment  compete  in  swiftness  with  this 
little  animal.  The  antelope  ran  down  the  hill  toward  the  main 
body  of  the  Indians,  who  were  moving  over  the  plain  below. 
Sharp  yells  were  given,  and  horsemen  galloped  out  to  intercep 


THE    OGILLALL^H    VILLAGE.  247 

his  flight.  At  this  he  turned  sharplj'  to  the  left,  and  scoured 
away  with  such  incredible  speed  that  he  distanced  all  his  pur. 
suers,  and  even  the  vaunted  horse  of  the  Panther  himself.  A 
few  moments  after,  we  witnessed  a  more  serious  sport.  A 
shaggy  buffalo-bull  bounded  out  from  a  neighboring  hollow,  and 
close  behind  him  came  a  slender  Indian  boy,  riding  without 
stirrups  or  saddle,  and  lashing  his  eager  little  horse  to  full  speed. 
Yard  after  yard  he  drew  closer  to  his  gigantic  victim,  though 
the  bull,  with  his  short  tail  erect  and  his  tongue  lolling  out  a 
foot  from  his  foaming  jaws,  was  straining  his  unwieldy  strength 
to  the  utmost.  A  moment  more,  and  the  boy  was  close  along- 
side of  him.  It  was  our  friend  the  Hail-Storm.  He  dropped 
the  rein  on  his  horse's  neck,  and  jerked  an  arrow  like  lightning 
from  the  quiver  at  his  shoulder. 

'  I  tell  you,'  said  Reynal,  '  that  in  a  year's  time  that  boy 
will  match  the  best  hunter  in  the  village.  There,  he  has  given 
it  to  him  !  —  and  there  goes  another  !  You  feel  well,  now,  old 
bull,  don't  you,  with  two  arrows  stuck  in  your  lights  ?  There, 
he  has  given  him  another !  Hear  how  the  Hail-Storm  yells 
when  he  shoots  !  Yes,  jump  at  him  ;  try  it  again,  old  fellow 
You  may  jump  all  day  before  3'-ou  get  your  horns  into  that 
pony  !' 

The  bull  sprang  again  and  again  at  his  assailant,  but  the 
horse  kept  dodging  with  wonderful  celerity.  At  length  the  bull 
followed  up  his  attack  with  a  furious  rush,  and  the  Hail-Storm 
was  put  to  flight,  the  shaggy  monster  following  close  behind. 
The  boy  clung  in  his  seat  like  a  leech,  and  secure  in  the  speed 
of  his  little  pony,  looked  round  toward  us  and  laughed.  In  a 
moment  he  was  again  alongside  of  the  bull  who  was  now  driven 
to  complete  desperation.     His  eyeballs  glared  through  his  tan- 


248  THE    CALIFOKNIA    AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

gled  nianc,  and  tlie  blood  flew  from  his  mouth  and  nostrils. 
Thus,  still  battling  with  each  other,  the  two  enemies  disappeared 
over  the  hill. 

Many  of  the  Indians  rode  at  full  gallop  toward  the  spot. 
We  followed  at  a  more  moderate  pace,  and  soon  saw  the  bull 
lying  dead  on  the  side  of  the  hill.  The  Indians  were  gathered 
around  him,  and  several  knives  were  already  at  work.  These 
little  instruments  were  plied  with  such  wonderful  address,  that 
the  twisted  sinews  were  cut  apart,  the  ponderous  bones  fell 
asunder  as  if  by  magic,  and  in  a  moment  the  vast  carcass  was 
reduced  to  a  heap  of  bloody  ruins.  The  surrounding  group 
of  savages  offered  no  very  attractive  spectacle  to  a  civilized 
eye.  Some  were  cracking  the  huge  thigh-bones  and  devouring 
the  marrow  within  ;  others  were  cutting  away  pieces  of  the 
liver,  and  other  approved  morsels,  and  swallowing  them  on  the 
spot  with  the  appetite  of  wolves.  The  faces  of  most  of  them, 
besmeared  with  blood  from  ear  to  ear,  looked  grim  and  horrible 
enough.  My  friend  the  White  Shield  proffered  me  a  marrow- 
bone, so  skilfully  laid  open,  that  all  the  rich  substance  within 
was  exposed  to  view  at  once.  Another  Indian  held  out  a  large 
piece  of  the  delicate  lining  of  the  paunch ;  but  these  courteous 
offerings  I  begged  leave  to  decline.  I  noticed  one  little  boy 
who  was  very  busy  with  his  knife  about  the  jaws  and  throat  of 
the  buffalo,  from  which  he  extracted  some  morsel  of  peculiar 
delicacy.  It  is  but  fair  to  say,  that  only  certain  parts  of  the 
animal  are  considered  eligible  in  these  extempore  banquets. 
The  Indians  would  look  with  abhorrence  on  any  one  who  should 
partake  indiscriminately  of  the  newly-killed  carcass. 

We  encamped  tliat  night,  and  marched  westwaid  through 
the  greater  part  of  the   following  day.     On  the  next  morning 


':i. 


THE  OGILLALLAH  VILLAGE.  249 

we  again   resumed  our  journey.     It  was  the  seventeenth  of 
July,  unless  my  notebook  misleads  me.     At  noon  we  stopped 
by  some  pools  of  rain-water,  and  in  the   afternoon  again  set 
forward.    This  double  movement  was  contrary  to  the  usual  prac- 
tice of  the  Indians,  but  all  were  very  anxious  to  reach  the  hunt- 
ing-ground, kill  the  necessary  number  of  buffalo,  and  retreat 
as  soon  as  possible  from  the  dangerous  neighborhood.     I  pass 
by  for  the  present  some  curious  incidents  that  occurred  during 
these  marches  and  encampments.     Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
last-mentioned  day  we  came  upon  the  banks  of  a  little  sandy 
stream,  of  which  the  Indians  could  not  tell  the  name ;    for  they 
were  very  ill  acquainted  with   that  part  of  the  country.     So 
parched  and  arid  were  the  prairies  around,  that  they  could  not 
supply  grass  enough  for  the  horses  to  feed  upon,  and  we  were 
compelled  to  move  farther  and  farther  up  the  stream  in  search 
of  ground  for  encampment.     The  country  was  much  wilder 
than  before.     The  plains  were  gashed  with  ravines  and  broken 
into  hollows  and  steep  declivities,  which  flanked  our  course,  as, 
in  long  scattered  array,  the  Indians  advanced  up  the  side  of 
the  stream.      Mene-Seela  consulted  an  extraordinary  oracle  to 
instruct  him  where  the  buffalo  were  to  be  found.     When  he 
with  the  other  chiefs  sat  down  on  the  grass  to  smoke  and  con- 
verse, as  they  often  did  during  the  march,  the  old  man  picked 
up  one  of  those  enormous  black  and  green  crickets,  which  the 
Dahcotah  call  by  a  name  that  signifies  *  They  who  point  out  the 
buffalo.'     The  '  Root-Diggers,'  a  wretched   tribe  beyond   the 
mountains,  turn  them  to  good  account  by  making  them  into  a 
sort  of  soup,  pronounced  by  certain  unscrupulous  trappers  to  be 
extremely  rich.     Holding  the  bloated  insect  respectfully  be. 
tween  his  fingers  and  thumb,  the  old  Indian  looked  attentively 


If 


250  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

at  him  and  inquired,  '  Tell  me,  my  father,  where  must  we  go 
to-morrow  to  find  the  buffalo?'  The  cricket  twisted  about  his 
long  horns  in  evident  embarrassment.  At  last  he  pointed,  or 
seemed  to  point,  tliem  westward.  Mene-Seela,  dropping  him 
gently  on  the  grass,  laughed  with  great  glee,  and  said  that  if  we 
went  that  way  in  the  morning  we  should  be  sure  to  kill  plenty 
of  game. 

Toward  evening  we  came  upon  a  fresh  green  meadow,  tra- 
vei-sed  by  the  stream,  and  deep-set  among  tall  sterile  bluffs. 
The  Indians  descended  its  steep  bank  ;  and  as  I  was  at  the 
rear,  I  was  one  of  the  last  to  reach  this  point.  Lances  were 
glittering,  featliers  fluttering,  and  the  water  below  me  was 
crowded  with  men  and  horses  passing  through,  while  the  mea- 
dow beyond  was  swarming  with  the  restless  crowd  of  Indians. 
The  sun  was  just  setting,  and  poured  its  softened  light  upon 
them  through  an  opening  in  the  hills.  • 

I  remarked  to  Reynal,  that  at  last  we  had  found  a  good 
'camping-ground. 

'  Oh,  it  is  very  good,'  replied  he,  ironically,  '  especially  if 
there  is  a  Snake  war-party  about,  and  they  take  it  into  their 
heads  to  shoot  down  at  us  from  the  top  of  these  hills.  It  is  no 
plan  of  mine,  'camping  in  such  a  hole  as  this  !' 

The  Indians  also  seemed  apprehensive.  High  up  on  the 
top  of  the  tallest  bluff,  conspicuous  in  the  bright  evening  sun- 
light, sat  a  naked  warrior  on  horseback,  looking  around,  as  it 
seemed,  over  the  neighboring  country  ;  and  Raymond  told  me 
that  many  of  the  young  men  had  gone  out  in  different  direc- 
tions as  scouts. 

The  shadows  had  reached  to  the  very  summit  of  the  bluffs 
before  the  lodges  were  erected  and  the  villajie  reduced  afjrain  to 


THE  OGILLALLAH  VILLAGE.  251 

quiet  and  order.  A  cry  was  suddenly  raised,  and  men,  women 
and  children  came  running  out  with  animated  faces,  and  looked 
eagerly  through  the  opening  on  the  hills  by  which  the  stream 
entered  from  the  westward.  I  could  discern  afar  off  some 
dark,  heavy  masses,  passing  over  the  sides  of  a  low  hill.  They 
disappeared,  and  then  others  followed.  These  were  bands  of 
buffalo-cows.  The  hunting-ground  was  reached  at  last,  and 
every  thing  promised  well  for  Uie  morrow's  sport.  Being  fa- 
tigued and  exhausted,  I  went  and  lay  down  in  Kongra-Tonga's 
lodge,  when  Raymond  thrust  in  his  head,  and  called  upon  me 
to  come  and  see  some  sport.  A  number  of  Indians  were  gath- 
ered, laughing,  along  the  line  of  lodges  on  the  western  side  of 
the  village,  and  at  some  distance,  I  could  plainly  see  in  the  twi- 
light two  huge  black  monsters  stalking,  heavily  and  solemnly, 
directly  toward  us.  They  were  buffalo-bulls.  The  wind  blew 
from  them  to  the  village,  and  such  was  their  blindness  and  stu- 
pidity, that  they  were  advancing  upon  the  enemy  without  the 
least  consciousness  of  his  presence.  Raymond  told  me  that 
two  young  men  had  hidden  themselves  with  guns  in  a  ravine 
about  twenty  yards  in  front  of  us.  The  two  bulls  walked 
slowly  on,  heavily  swinging  from  side  to  side  in  their  peculiar 
gait  of  stupid  dignity.  They  approached  within  four  or  five 
rods  of  the  ravine  where  the  Indians  lay  in  ambush.  Here  at 
last  they  seemed  conscious  that  something  was  wrong,  for  they 
both  stopped  and  stood  perfectly  still,  without  looking  either  to 
the  right  or  to  the  left.  Nothing  of  them  was  to  be  seen  but 
two  huge  black  masses  of  shaggy  mane,  with  horns,  eyes,  and 
nose  in  the  centre,  and  a  pair  of  hoofs  visible  at  the  bottom. 
At  last  the  more  intelligent  of  them  seemed  to  have  concluded 
that  it  was  time  to  retire.     Very  slowly,  and  with  an  air  of  the 


252  THE    CALIFORNIA    A  KB    OREGON    TRAIL. 

gravest  and  most  majestic  deliberation,  he  began  to  turn  round, 
as  if  he  were  revolving  on  a  pivot.  Little  by  little  his  ugly- 
brown  side  was  exposed  to  view.  A  white  smoke  sprang  out, 
as  it  were  from  the  ground  ;  a  sharp  report  came  with  it.  The 
old  bull  gave  a  very  undignified  jump,  and  galloped  off.  At 
this  his  comrade  wheeled  about  with  considerable  expedition. 
The  other  Indian  shot  at  him  from  the  ravine,  and  then  both  the 
bulls  were  running  away  at  full  speed,  while  half  the  juvenile 
population  of  the  village  raised  a  yell  and  ran  after  them.  The 
first  bull  soon  stopped,  and  while  the  crowd  stood  looking  at  him 
at  a  respectful  distance,  he  reeled  and  rolled  over  on  his  side. 
The  other,  wounded  in  a  less  vital  part,  galloped  away  to  the 
hills  and  escaped. 

In  half  an  hour  it  was  totally  dark.  I  lay  down  to  sleep, 
and  ill  as  I  was,  there  was  something  very  animating  in  the 
prospect  of  the  general  hunt  that  was  to  take  place  on  the  mor- 
row. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE     HUNTING     CAMP. 

"  The  Pers6  owt  of  Northamberlande, 
And  a  vowe  to  God  mayde  he, 
That  he  wolde  hunte  in  the  monntayni 

Off  Chyviat  within  dayes  thre, 

In  the  mauger  of  doughtd  Dogl6s, 

And  all  that  ever  with  him  be. 

Cbevt  Ch^sk. 

Long  before  daybreak  the  Indians  broke  up  their  camp. 
The  women  of  Mene-Seela's  lodge  were  as  usual  among  the 
first  that  were  ready  for  departure,  and  I  found  the  old  man 
himself  sitting  by  the  embers  of  the  decayed  fire,  over  which  he 
was  warming  his  withered  fingers,  as  the  morning  was  very 
chilly  and  damp.  The  preparations  for  moving  were  even  more 
confused  and  disorderly  than  usual.  While  some  families  were 
leaving  the  ground  the  lodges  of  others  were  still  standing  un- 
touched. At  this,  old  Mene-Seela  grew  impatient,  and  walking 
out  to  the  middle  of  the  village  stood  with  his  robe  wrapped  close 
around  him,  and  harangued  the  people  in  a  loud,  sharp  voice. 
Now,  he  said,  when  they  were  on  an  enemy's  hunting-grounds, 
was  not  the  time  to  behave  like  children  ;  they  ought  to  be 
more  active  and  united  than  ever.     His  speech  had  some  effect. 


264  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

The  delinquents  took  down  their  lodges  and  loaded  their  pack- 
horses  ;  and  when  the  sun  rose,  the  last  of  the  men,  womer., 
and  children  had  left  tlie  deserted  camp. 

This  movement  was  made  merely  for  the  purpose  of  finding 
a  better  and  safer  position.  So  we  advanced  only  three  or  four 
miles  up  the  little  stream,  before  each  family  assumed  its  rela- 
tive place  in  the  great  ring  of  the  village,  and  all  around  the 
squaws  were  actively  at  work  in  preparing  the  camp.  But  not  a 
single  warrior  dismounted  from  his  horse.  All  the  men  that 
morning  were  mounted  on  inferior  animals,  leading  their  best 
horses  by  a  cord,  or  confiding  them  to  the  care  of  boys.  In 
small  parties  they  began  to  leave  the  ground  and  ride  rapidly 
away  over  the  plains  to  the  westward.  I  had  taken  no  food 
that  morning,  and  not  being  at  all  ambitious  of  farther  absti- 
nence, I  went  into  my  host's  lodge,  which  his  squaws  had 
erected  with  wonderful  celerity,  and  sat  down  in  the  centre,  as 
a  gentle  hint  that  I  was  hungry.  A  wooden  bowl  was  soon  set 
before  me,  filled  with  the  nutritious  preparation  of  dried  meat, 
called  pemmican  by  the  northern  voyagers,  and  wasna  by  the 
Dahcotah.  Taking  a  handful  to  break  my  fast  upon,  I  left  the 
lodge  just  in  time  to  see  the  last  band  of  hunters  disappear  over 
the  ridge  of  the  neighboring  hill.  I  mounted  Pauline  and  gallop- 
ed in  pursuit,  riding  rather  by  the  balance  than  by  any  muscular 
strength  that  remained  to  me.  From  the  top  of  the  hill  I  could 
overlook  a  wide  extent  of  desolate  and  unbroken  prairiie,  over 
which,  far  and  near,  little  parties  of  naked  horsemen  were  rapid- 
ly passing.  I  soon  came  up  to  the  nearest,  and  we  had  not 
ridden  a  mile  before  all  were  united  into  one  l^rge  and  compact 
body.  All  was  haste  and  eagerness.  Each  hunter  was  whip- 
ping on  his  horse,  as  if  anxious  to  be  the  first  to  reach  the  game. 


THE    HUNTING   CAMP.  255 

In  such  movements  among  the  Indians  this  is  always  more  or 
less  the  case ;  but  it  was  especially  so  in  the  present  instance, 
because  the  head  chief  of  the  village  was  absent,  and  there 
were  but  few  '  soldiers,'  a  sort  of  Indian  police,  who  among 
their  other  functions  usually  assume  the  direction  of  a  buffalo 
hunt.  No  man  turned  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the  left.  We 
rode  at  a  swift  canter  straight  forward,  up  hill  and  down  hill, 
and  through  the  stiff,  obstinate  growth  of  the  endless  wild  sage 
bushes.  For  an  hour  and  a  half  the  same  red  shoulders,  the 
same  long  black  hair  rose  and  fell  with  the  motion  of  the 
horses  before  me.  Very  little  was  said,  though  once  I  observed 
an  old  man  severely  reproving  Raymond  for  having  left  his 
rifle  behind  him,  when  there  was  some  probability  of  encoun- 
tering an  enemy  before  the  day  was  over.  As  we  galloped 
across  a  plain  thickly  set  with  sage  bushes,  the  foremost  riders 
vanished  suddenly  from  sight,  as  if  diving  into  the  earth.  The 
arid  soil  was  cracked  into  a  deep  ravine.  Down  we  all  went 
in  succession  and  galloped  in  a  line  along  the  bottom,  until  we 
found  a  point  where,  one  by  one,  the  horses  could  sci'amble  out. 
Soon  after,  we  came  upon  a  wide  shallow  stream,  and  as  we 
rode  swiftly  over  the  hard  sand-beds  and  through  the  thin  sheets 
of  rippling  water,  many  of  the  savage  horsemen  threw  them- 
selves to  the  ground,  knelt  on  the  sand,  snatched  a  hasty 
draught,  and  leaping  back  again  to  their  seats,  galloped  on 
again  as  before. 

Meanwhile  scouts  kept  in  advance  of  the  party  ;  and  now 
we  began  to  see  them  on  the  ridge  of  the  hills,  waving  their 
robes  in  token  that  buffalo  were  visible.  These  however  proved 
to  be  nothing  more  than  old  straggling  bulls,  feeding  upon  the 
neighboring  plains,  who  would  stare  for  a  moment  at  the  hostile 


266  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

array  and  tlicn  gallop  clumsily  olF.  At  length  we  could  dis. 
ccrn  several  of  tlieso  scouts  nnaking  their  signals  to  us  at  once; 
no  longer  waving  their  robes  boldly  from  the  top  of  the  hill, 
but  standing  lower  down,  so  that  they  could  not  be  seen  from 
the  plains  beyond.  Game  worth  pursuing  had  evidently  been 
discovered.  The  e.xcited  Indians  now  urged  forward  their 
lired  horses  even  more  rapidly  than  before.  Pauline,  who  was 
still  sick  and  jaded,  began  to  groan  heavily  ;  and  her  yellow 
sides  were  darkened  with  sweat.  As  we  were  crowding  to- 
gether over  a  lower  intervening  hill,  I  heard  Reynal  and  Ray- 
mond  shouting  to  me  from  the  left ;  and  looking  in  that  direc- 
tion, I  saw  them  riding  away  behind  a  party  of  about  twenty 
mean-looking  Indians.  These  were  the  relatives  of  Reynal's 
squaw,  Margot,  who  not  wishing  to  take  part  in  the  general 
hunt,  were  riding  towards  a  distant  hollow,  where  they  could 
discern  a  small  band  of  buffalo  which  they  meant  to  appropriate 
to  themselves.  I  answered  to  the  call  by  ordering  Raymond 
to  turn  back  and  follow  me.  He  reluctantly  obeyed,  though 
Reynal,  who  had  relied  on  his  assistance  in  skinning,  cutting 
up,  and  carrying  to  camp  the  buffalo  that  he  and  his  party 
should  kill,  loudly  protested  and  declared  that  we  should  see 
no  sport  if  we  went  with  'he  rest  of  the  Indians.  Followed 
by  Raymond,  I  pursued  the  main  body  of  hunters,  while  Rey- 
nal, in  a  great  rage,  whipped  his  horse  over  the  hill  after  his 
ragamuffi-n  relatives.  The  Indians,  still  about  a  hundred  in 
number,  rode  in  a  duise  body  at  some  distance  in  advance. 
They  galloped  forward,  and  a  cloud  of  dust  was  flying  in  the 
wind  behind  them.  I  could  not  overtake  them  until  they  had 
stopped  on  the  side  of  the  hill  where  the  scouts  were  standing. 
Here,  each  hunter  sprang  in  haste  from  the  tired  animal  which 


THE    HUNTING   CAMP.  257 

he  had  ridden,  and  leaped  upon  the  fresh  horse  that  he  had 
brought  with  him.  There  was  not  a  saddle  or  a  bridle  in  the 
whole  party.  A  piece  of  buffalo  robe  girthed  over  the  horse's 
back,  served  in  the  place  of  the  one,  and  a  cord  of  twisted  hair, 
lashed  firmly  round  his  lower  jaw,  answered  for  the  other. 
Eagle  feathers  were  dangling  from  every  mane  and  tail,  as  in- 
signia of  courage  and  speed.  As  for  the  rider,  he  wore  no 
other  clothing  than  a  light  cincture  at  his  waist,  and  a  pair  of 
moccasons.  He  had  a  heavy  whip,  with  a  handle  of  solid  elk- 
horn,  and  a  lash  of  knotted  bull-hide,  fastened  to  his  wrist  by 
an  ornamental  band.  His  bow  was  in  his  hand,  and  his 
quiver  of  otter  or  panther  skin  hung  at  his  shoulder.  Thus 
equipped,  some  thirty  of  the  hunters  galloped  away  towards 
the  left,  in  order  to  make  a  circuit  under  cover  of  the  hills, 
that  the  bufialo  might  be  assailed  on  both  sides  at  once. 
The  rest  impatiently  waited  until  time  enough  had  elapsed 
for  their  companions  to  reach  the  required  position.  Then 
riding  upward  in  a  body,  we  gained  the  ridge  of  the  hill,  and 
for  the  first  time  came  in  sight  of  the  buffalo  on  the  plain 
beyond. 

They  were  a  band  of  cows,  four  or  five  hundred  in  num- 
ber, who  were  crowded  together  near  the  bank  of  a  wide  stream 
that  was  soaking  across  the  sand-beds  of  the  valley.  This  was 
a  large  circular  basin,  sun-scorched  and  broken,  scantily 
covered  with  herbage  and  encompassed  with  high  barren  hills, 
from  an  opening  in  which  we  could  see  our  allies  galloping  out 
upon  the  plain.  The  wind  blew  from  that  direction.  The 
buffalo  were  aware  of  their  approach,  and  had  begun  to  move, 
though  very  slowly  and  in  a  compact  mass.  I  have  no  farther 
recollection  of  seeing  the  game  until  we  were  in  the  midst  of 


258  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    ORKGON    TRAIL. 

them,  for  as  wc  descended  the  liill  otlier  objects  engrossed  my 
attention.  Numerous  old  bulls  were  scattered  over  the  plain, 
and  ungallantly  deserting  their  charge  at  our  approach,  began 
to  wade  and  plunge  through  the  treacherous  quicksands  of  the 
stream,  and  gallop  away  towards  the  hills.  One  old  veteran 
was  struggling  behi«d  all  the  rest  with  one  of  his  fore-legs, 
which  had  been  broken  by  some  accident,  dangling  about  use- 
lessly at  his  side.  His  appearance,  as  he  went  shambling  along 
on  three  legs,  was  so  ludicrous  that  I  could  not  help  pausing 
for  a  moment  to  look  at  him.  As  I  came  near,  he  would  try 
to  rush  upon  me,  nearly  throwing  himself  down  at  every  awk- 
ward attempt.  Looking  up,  I  saw  the  whole  body  of  Indians 
full  an  hundred  yards  in  advance.  I  lashed  Pauline  in  pursuit 
and  reached  them  but  just  in  time  ;  for  as  we  mingled  among 
them,  each  hunter,  as  if  by  a  common  impulse,  violently  struck 
his  horse,  each  horse  sprang  forward  convulsively,  and  scat- 
tering in  the  charge  in  order  to  assail  the  entire  herd  at  once, 
we  all  rushed  headlong  upon  the  buffalo.  We  were  among 
them  in  an  instant.  Amid  the  trampling  and  the  yells  I  could 
see  their  dark  figures  running  hither  and  thither  through  clouds 
of  dust,  and  the  horsemen  darting  in  pursuit.  While  we  were 
charging  on  one  side,  our  companions  had  attacked  the  bewil- 
dered and  panic-stricken  herd  on  the  other.  The  uproar  and 
confusion  lasted  but  for  a  moment.  The  dust  cleared  away, 
and  the  buffalo  could  be  seen  scattering  as  from  a  common 
centre,  flying  over  the  plain  singly,  or  in  long  files  and  small 
compact  bodies,  while  behind  each  followed  the  Indians,  lashing 
their  horses  to  furious  speed,  forcing  them  close  upon  their 
prey,  and  yelling  as  they  launched  arrow  after  arrow  into  their 
sides.     The  large  black  carcasses  were  strewn  thickly  over 


THE    HUNTING    CAKP.  259 

the  ground.  Here  and  there  wounded  bufFalo  were  stand- 
ing, their  bleeding  sides  feathered  with  arrows ;  and  as  I 
rode  past  them  their  eyes  would  glare,  they  would  bristle 
like  gigantic  cats,  and  feebly  attempt  to  rush  up  and  gore  my 
horse. 

I  left  camp  that  morning  with  a  philosophic  resolution. 
Neither  I  nor  my  horse  were  at  that  time  fit  for  such  sport,  and 
I  had  determined  to  I'emain  a  quiet  spectator;  but  amid  the 
rush  of  horses  and  buffalo,  the  uproar  and  the  dust,  I  found  it 
impossible  to  sit  still ;  and  as  four  or  five  buffalo  ran  past  me 
in  a  line,  I  drove  Pauline  in  pursuit.  We  went  plunging  close 
at  their  heels  through  the  water  and  the  quicksands,  and  clam- 
bering the  bank,  chased  them  through  the  wild  sage-bushes 
that  covered  the  rising  ground  beyond.  But  neither  her  native 
spirit  nor  the  blows  of  the  knotted  bull-hide  could  supply  the 
place  of  poor  Pauline's  exhausted  strength.  We  could  not 
gain  an  inch  upon  the  poor  fugitives.  At  last,  hjwever,  they 
came  full  upon  a  ravine  too  wide  to  leap  over ;  and  as  this 
compelled  them  to  turn  abruptly  to  the  left,  I  contrived  to  get 
within  ten  or  twelve  yards  of  the  hindmost.  At  this  she  faced 
about,  bristled  angrily,  and  made  a  show  of  charging.  I  shot 
at  her  with  a  large  holster  pistol,  and  hit  her  somewhere  in  the 
neck.  Down  she  tumbled  into  the  ravine,  whither  her  com- 
panions had  descended  before  her.  I  saw  their  dark  backs 
appearing  and  disappearing  as  they  galloped  along  the  bottom; 
then,  one  by  one,  they  came  scrambling  out  on  the  other 
side,  and  ran  off  as  before,  the  wounded  animal  following  with 
unabated  speed. 

Turning  back,  I  saw  Raymond  coming  on  his  black  mule 
to  meet  me  ;  and  as  we  rode  over  the  field  together,  we  count- 


260  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

ed  dozens  of  carcasses  lying  on  the  plain,  in  the  ravines  and 
on  the  sandy  bed  of  the  stream.  Far  away  in  the  distance, 
horses  and  buffalo  were  still  scouring  along,  with  little  clouds 
of  dust  rising  behind  them  ;  and  over  the  sides  of  the  hills  we 
could  see  long  files  of  the  frightened  animals  rapidly  ascending. 
The  hunters  began  to  return.  The  boys,  who  had  held  the 
horses  behind  the  hill,  made  their  appearance,  and  the  work  of 
flaying  and  cutting  up  began  in  earnest  all  over  the  field.  I 
noticed  my  host  Kongra  Tonga  beyond  the  stream,  just  alight- 
ing by  the  side  of  a  cow  which  he  had  killed.  Riding  up  to 
him,  I  found  him  in  the  act  of  drawing  out  an  arrow,  which, 
with  the  exception  of  the  notch  at  the  end,  had  entirely  disappear- 
ed in  the  animal.  I  asked  him  to  give  it  to  me,  and  I  still  retain 
it  as  a  proof,  though  by  no  means  the  most  striking  one  that 
could  be  offered,  of  the  force  and  dexterity  with  which  the  In. 
dians  discharge  their  arrows. 

The  hides  and  meat  were  piled  upon  the  horses,  and  the 
hunters  began  to  leave  the  ground.  Raymond  and  I,  too, 
getting  tired  of  the  scene,  set  out  for  the  village,  riding  straight 
across  the  intervening  desert.  There  was  no  path,  and  as  far 
as  I  could  see,  no  landmarks  sufficient  to  guide  us ;  but  Ray- 
mond seemed  to  have  an  instinctive  perception  of  the  point  on 
the  horizon  toward  which  we  ought  to  direct  our  course.  An- 
telope were  bounding  on  all  sides,  and  as  is  always  the  case  in 
the  presence  of  buffalo,  they  seemed  to  have  lost  their  natural 
shyness  and  timidity.  Bands  of  them  would  run  lightly  up 
the  rocky  declivities,  and  stand  gazing  down  upon  us  from 
the  summit.  At  length  we  could  distinguish  the  tall  white 
rocks  and  the  old  pine-trees  that,  as  we  well  remembered, 
were  just  above  the  site  of  the  encampment.     Still,  we  could 


THE    HUNTING   CAMP.  261 

see  nothing  of  the  village  itself  until,  ascending  a  grassy  hill, 
we  found  the  iircle  of  lodges,  dingy  with  storms  and  smoke, 
standing  on  the  plain  at  our  very  feet. 

I  entered  the  lodge  of  my  host.  His  squaw  instaiitly 
brought  me  food  and  water,  and  spread  a  buffalo-robe  for  me  to 
lie  upon ;  and  being  much  fatigued,  I  lay  down  and  fell  asleep. 
In  about  an  hour  the  entrance  of  Kongra-Tonga,  with  his  arms 
smeared  with  blood  to'  the  elbows,  awoke  me.  He  sat  down  in 
his  usual  seat,  on  the  left  side  of  the  lodge.  His  squaw  gave 
him  a  vessel  of  water  for  washing,  set  before  him  a  bowl  of 
boiled  meat,  and  as  he  was  eating,  pulled  off  his  bloody  mocca- 
sons  and  placed  fresh  ones  on  his  feet ;  then  outstretching  his 
limbs,  my  host  composed  himself  to  sleep. 

And  now  the  hunters,  two  or  three  at  a  time,  began  to  come 
rapidly  in,  and  each  consigning  his  horses  to  the  squaws,  en- 
tered his  lodge  with  the  air  of  a  man  whose  day's  work  was 
done.  The  squaws  flung  down  the  load  from  the  burdened 
horses,  and  vast  piles  of  meat  and  hides  were  soon  accumulated 
before  every  lodge.  By  this  time  it  was  darkening  fast,  and 
the  whole  village  was  illumined  by  the  glare  of  fires  blazing 
all  around.  All  the  squaws  and  children  were  gathered  about 
the  piles  of  meat,  exploring  them  in  search  of  the  daintiest 
portions.  Some  of  these  they  roasted  on  sticks  before  the  fires, 
but  often  they  dispensed  with  this  superfluous  operation.  Late 
into  the  night  the  fires  were  still  glowing  upon  the  groups  of 
feasters  engaged  in  this  savage  banquet  around  them. 

Several  hunters  sat  down  by  the  fire  in  Kongra-Tonga' 
lodge  to  talk  over  the  day's  exploits.     Among  the  rest,  Mene- 
Seela  came  in.     Though  he  must  have  seen  full  eighty  win- 
ters,  he  had  taken  an  acljve  share  in  the  day's  sport.      He 


262         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

boasted  that  he  liad  killed  two  cows  that  morning,  and  would 
have  killed  a  third  if  the  dust  had  not  blinded  him  so  that  he 
had  to  drop  his  bow  and  arrows  and  press  both  hands  against 
hi^yes  to  stop  the  pain.  The  fire-light  fell  upon  his  wrinkled 
face  and  shrivelled  figure  as  he  sat  telling  his  story  with  such 
inimitable  gesticulation  that  every  man  in  the  lodge  broke  into 
a  laugh. 

Old  Mene-Seela  was  one  of  the  few  Indians  in  the  village 
with  whom  I  would  have  trusted  myself  alone  without  suspi- 
cion, and  the  only  one  from  whom  I  should  have  received  a 
gift  or  a  service  without  the  certainty  that  it  proceeded  from  an 
interested  motive.  He  was  a  great  friend  to  the  whites.  He 
liked  to  be  in  their  society,  and  was  very  vain  of  the  favors  he 
had  received  from  them.  He  told  me  one  afternoon,  as  we 
were  sitting  together  in  his  son's  lodge,  that  he  considered  tlie 
beaver  and  the  whites  the  wisest  people  on  earth ;  indeed,  he 
was  convinced  they  were  the  same  ;  and  an  incident  which  had 
happened  to  him  long  before  had  assured  him  of  this.  So  he 
began  the  following  story,  and  as  the  pipe  passed  in  turn  to 
him,  Reynal  availed  himself  of  these  interruptions  to  trans- 
late what  had  preceded.  But  the  old  man  accompanied  his 
words  with  such  admirable  pantomime  that  translation  was 
hardly  necessary. 

He  said  that  when  he  was  very  young,  and  had  never  yet 
seen  a  white  man,  he  and  ihree  or  four  of  his  companions  were 
out  on  a  beaver  hunt,  and  he  crawled  into  a  large  beaver-lodge, 
to  examine  what  was  there.  Sometimes  he  was  creeping  on 
his  hands  and  knees,  sometimes  he  was  obliged  to  swim,  and 
sometimes  to  lie  flat  on  his  face  and  drag  himself  along.  In 
this  way  he  crawled  a  great  distance  under  ground.     It  was 


THE    HUNTING    CAMP'.  263 

very  dark,  cold  and  close,  so  that  at  last  he  was  ulmost  suffo- 
cated, and  fell  into  a  swoon.  When  he  began  to  recover,  he 
could  just  distinguish  the  voices  of  his  companions  outside, 
who  had  given  him  up -for  lost,  and  were  singing  his  dq^th- 
song.  At  first  he  could  see  nothing,  but  soon  he  discerned 
something  white  before  him,  and  at  length  plainly  distinguished 
three  people,  entirely  white,  one  man  and  two  women,  sitting 
at  the  edge  of  a  black  pool  of  water.  He  became  alarmed  and 
though  it  high  time  to  retreat.  Having  succeeded,  after  great 
trouble,  in  reachingviaylight  again,  he  went  straight  to  the 
spot  directly  above  the  pool  of  water  where  he  had ^ seen  the 
three  mysterious  beings.  Here  he  beat  a  hole  with  his  war- 
club  in  the  ground,  and  sat  down  to  watch.  In  a  moment  the 
nose  of  an  old  male  beaver  appeared  at  the  opening.  Mene- 
Seela  instantly  seized  him  and  dragged  him  up,  when  two 
other  beavers,  both  females,  thrust  out  their  heads,  and  these 
he  served  in  the  same  way.  '  These,'  continued  the  old  man, 
'  must  have  been  the  three  white  people  whom  I  saw  sitting  at 
the  edge  of  the  water.' 

Mene-Seela  was  the  grand  depositary  of  the  legends  and 
traditions  of  the  village.  1  succeeded,  however,  in  getting  from 
him  only  a  few  fragments.  Like  all  Indians,  he  was  exces- 
sively superstitious,  and  continually  saw  some  reason  for  with- 
holding his  stories.  '  It  is  a  bad  thing,'  he  would  say,  '  to  tell 
the  tales  in  summer.  Stay  with  us  till  next  winter,  and  I  will 
tell  you  every  thing  I  know  ;  but  now  our  war-parties  are  going 
out,  and  our  young  men  will  be  killed  if  I  sit  down  to  tell  sto- 
ries before  the  frost  begins.' 

But  to  leave  this  digression.  We  remained  encamped  on 
this  spot  five  days,  during  three  of  which  the  hunters  were  at 


rez 


264 


THE    CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 


work  incessantly,  and  immense  quantities  of  meat  and  hides 
were  brought  iu.  Great  alarm,  however,  prevailed  in  the  vil- 
lage.  All  were  on  the  alert.  The  young  men  were  ranging 
tliroiigh  the  country  as  scouts,  and  the  old  men  paid  careful  at- 
tention to  omens  and  prodigies,  ana  especially  to  their  dreams. 
In  order  to  convey  to  the  enemy  ( who,  if  they  were  in  the 
neighborhood,  must  inevitably  have  known  of  our  presence,) 
the  impression  that  we  were  constantly  on  the  watch,  piles  of 
sticks  and  stones  were  erected  on  all  the  surrounding  hills,  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  appear  at  a  distance  like  sentinels.  Often, 
even  to  this  hour,  that  scene  will  rise  before  my  mind  like  a 
visible  reality ; — the  tall  white  rocks ;  the  old  pine-trees  on 
their  summits  ;  the  sandy  stream  that  ran  along  their  bases  and 
half  encircled  the  village  ;  and  the  wild-sage  bushes,  with  their 
dull  green  hue  and  their  medicinal  odor,  that  covered  all  the 
neighboring  declivities.  Hour  after  hour  the  squaws  would 
pass  and  repass  with  their  vessels  of  water  between  the  stream 
and  the  lodges.  For  the  most  part,  no  one  was  to  be  seen  in 
the  camp  but  women  and  children,  two  or  three  superannuated 
old  men,  and  a  few  lazy  and  worthless  young  ones.  These, 
together  with  the  dogs,  now  grown  fat  and  good-natured  with 
the  abundance  in  the  camp,  were  its  only  tenants.  Still  it  pre- 
sented a  busy  and  bustling  scene.  In  all  quarters  the  meat, 
hung  on  cords  of  hide,  was  drying  in  the  sun,  and  around  the 
lodges  the  squaws,  young  and  old,  were  laboring  on  the  fresh 
hides  that  were  stretched  upon  the  ground,  scraping  the  hair 
from  one  side  and  the  still  adhering  flesh  from  the  other,  and 
rubbing  into  them  the  brains  of  the  buffalo,  in  order  to  render 
Ihfm  soft  and  pliant. 

In  mercy  to  myself  and  my  horse,  I  never  went  out  with 


i'\ 


THE    HUNTING   CAMP.  265 

the  hunters  after  the  first  day.  Of  late,  however,  I  had  been 
gaining  strength  rapidly,  as  was  always  the  case  upon  every 
respite  of  my  disorder.  I  was  soon  able  to  walk  with  ease. 
Raymond  and  I  would  go  out  upon  the  neighboring  prairies  to 
shoot  antelope,  or  sometimes  to  assail  straggling  buffalo,  on  foot 
an  attempt  in  which  we  met  with  rather  indifferent  success. 
To  kill  a  bull  with  a  rifle-ball  is  a  difficult  art,  in  the  secret  of 
which  I  was  as  yet  very  imperfectly  initiated.  As  I  came  out 
of  Kongra-Tonga's  lodge  one  morning,  Reynal  called  to  me 
from  the  opposite  side  of  the  village,  and  asked  me  over  to 
breakfast.  The  breakfast  was  a  substantial  one.  It  consisted 
of  the  rich,  juicy  hump-ribs  of  a  fat  cow;  a  repast  absolutely 
unrivalled.  It  was  roasting  before  the  fire,  impaled  upon  a 
stout  stick,  which  Reynal  took  up  and  planted  in  the  ground 
before  his  lodge;  when  he,  with  Raymond  and  myself,  taking 
our  seats  around  it,  unsheathed  our  knives  and  assailed  it  with 
good  will.  In  spite  of  all  medical  experience,  this  solid  fare, 
without  bread  or  salt,  seemed  to  agree  with  me  admirably. 

'  We  shall  have  strangers  here  before  night,'  said  Reynal. 

*  How  do  you  know  that  V  I  asked. 

'  I  dreamed  so.  I  am  as  good  at  dreaming  as  an  Indian. 
There  is  the  Hail-Storm  ;  he  dreamed  the  same  thing,  and  he 
and  his  crony,  the  Rabbit,  have  gone  out  on  discovery.' 

I  laughed  at  Reynal  for  his  credulity,  went  over  to  my 
host's  lodge,  took  down  my  rifle,  walked  out  a  mile  or  two  on 
the  prairie,  saw  an  old  bull  standing  alone,  crawled  up  a  ravine, 
shot  him,  and  saw  him  escape.  Then,  quite  exhausted  and 
rather  ill-humored,  I  walked  back  to  the  village.  By  a  strange 
coincidence,  Reynal's  prediction  had  been  verified  ;  for  the  first 
persons  whom  I  saw  were  the  two  trappers,  Rouleau  and  Sara- 


i^ 18- 


966  THE    CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

phin,  coining  to  meet  me.  These  men,  as  the  reader  may  pos- 
sibly recollect,  had  left  our  party  about  a  fortnight  before. 
They  had  been  trapping  for  a  while  among  tlic  Black  Hills, 
and  were  now  on  their  way  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  intending 
in  a  day  or  two  to  set  out  for  the  neighboring  Medicine  Bow. 
They  were  not  the  most  elegant  or  refined  of  companions,  yet 
they  made  a  very  welcome  addition  to  the  limited  society  of  the 
village.  For  the  rest  of  that  day  we  lay  smoking  and  talking 
in  Reynal's  lodge.  This  indeed  was  no  better  than  a  little 
hut,  made  of  hides  stretched  on  poles,  and  entirely  open  in 
front.  It  was  well  carpeted  with  soft  buflalo-robes,  and  here 
we  remained,  sheltered  from  the  sun,  surrounded  by  various 
domestic  utensils  of  Madame  Margot's  household.  All  was 
quiet  in  the  village.  Though  the  hunters  had  not  gone  out 
that  day,  they  lay  sleeping  in  their  lodges,  and  most  of  the 
women  were  silently  engaged  in  their  heavy  tasks.  A  few 
young  men  were  playing  at  a  lazy  game  of  ball  in  the  centre 
of  the  village  ;  and  when  they  became  tired,  some  girls  sup- 
plied their  place  with  a  more  boisterous  sport.  At  a  little 
distance,  among  the  lodges,  some  children  and  half-grown  squaws 
were  playfully  tossing  up  one  of  their  number  in  a  buffalo- 
robe,  an  exact  counterpart  of  the  ancient  pastime  from  which 
Sancho  Panza  suffered  so  much.  Farther  out  on  the  prairie, 
a  host  of  little  naked  boys  were  roaming  about,  engaged  in 
various  rough  games,  or  pursuing  birds  and  ground-squirrels 
with  their  bows  and  arrows ;  and  woe  to  the  unhappy  little 
animals  that  fell  into  dieir  merciless,  torture-loving  hands  !  A 
squaw  from  the  next  lodge,  a  notable  active  housewife,  named 
Weah  Washtay,  or  the  Good  Woman,  brought  us  a  large  bowl 
of    Wasna,    and   went  into   an   ecstasy   of   delight  when   I 


THE   HUNTING   CAMP.  267 

presented  her  wi.h  a  green  glass  ring,  such  as  I  usually  wore 
with  a  view  to  similar  occasions. 

The  sun  went  down,  and  half  the  sky  was  glowing  fiery  red, 
reflected  on  the  little  stream  as  it  wound  away  among  the  sage- 
bushes.  Some  young  men  left  the  village,  and  soon  returned, 
driving  in  before  them  all  the  horses,  hundreds  in  number,  and 
of  every  size,  age  and  color.  The  hunters  came  out,  and  each 
securing  those  that  belonged  to  him,  examined  their  condition, 
and  tied  them  fast  by  long  cords  to  stakes  driven  in  front  of  his 
lodge.  It  was  half  an  hour  before  the  bustle  subsided  and 
tranquillity  was  restored  again.  By  this  time  it  was  nearly 
dark.  Kettles  were  hung  over  the  blazing  fires,  around  which 
the  squaws  were  gathered  with  their  children,  laughing  and 
talking  merrily.  A  circle  of  a  different  kind  was  formed  in 
the  centre  of  the  village.  This  was  composed  of  the  old  men 
and  warriors  of  repute,  who  with  their  white  buffalo-robes 
drawn  close  around  their  shoulders,  sat  together,  and  as  the  pipe 
passed  from  hand  to  hand,  their  conversation  had  not  a  particle 
of  the  gravity  and  reserve  usually  ascribed  to  Indians.  I  sat 
down  with  them  as  usual.  I  had  in  my  hand  half  a  dozen 
squibs  and  serpents,  which  I  had  made  one  day  when  encamped 
upon  Laramie  Creek,  out  of  gunpowder  and  charcoal,  and  the 
leaves  of  '  Fremont's  Expedition,'  rolled  round  a  stout  lead- 
pencil.  I  waited  till  I  contrived  to  get  hold  of  the  large  piece 
of  burning  hois-de-vache  which  the  Indians  kept  by  them  on  the 
ground  for  lighting  their  pices.  With  this  I  lighted  all  the  fire- 
works at  once,  and  tossed  ihem  whizzing  and  sputtering  into 
the  air,  over  the  heads  of  the  company.  They  all  jumped  up 
and  ran  off  with  yelps  of  astonishment  and  consternation. 
After  a  moment  or  tW7,  they  ventured  to  come  back  one  by 


268  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

one,  and  some  of  the  boldest,  picking  up  the  cases  of  burnt 
paper  that  were  scattered  about,  examined  them  with  eager 
curiosity  to  discover  their  mysterious  secret.  From  that  time 
forward  I  enjoyed  great  repute  as  a  '  fire-medicine.' 

Tlie  camp  was  filled  with  the  low  hum  of  clieerful  voices. 
There  were  other  sounds,  however,  of  a  very  different  kind, 
for  from  a  large  lodge,  lighted  up  like  a  gigantic  lantern  by 
the  blazing  fire  within,  came  a  chorus  of  dismal  cries  and 
wailings,  long  drawn  out,  like  the  howling  of  wolves,  and  a 
woman,  almost  naked,  was  crouching  close  outside,  crying 
violently,  and  gashing  her  legs  with  a  knife  till  they  were 
covered  with  blood.  Just  a  year  before,  a  young  man  belong- 
ing to  this  family  had  gone  out  with  a  war-party  and  had  been 
slain  by  the  enemy,  and  his  relatives  were  thus  lamenting  his 
loss.  Still  other  sounds  might  be  heard ;  loud  earnest  cries 
often  repeated  from  amid  the  gloom,  at  a  distance  beyond  the 
village.  They  proceeded  from  some  young  men  who,  being 
about  to  set  out  in  a  few  days  on  a  warlike  expedition,  were 
standing  at  the  top  of  a  hill,  calling  on  the  Great  Spirit  to  aid 
them  in  their  enterprise.  While  I  was  listening.  Rouleau, 
with  a  laugh  on  his  careless  face,  called  to  me  and  directed  my 
attention  to  another  quarter.  In  front  of  the  lodge  where  Weah 
Washtay  lived  another  squaw  was  standing,  angrily  scolding 
an  old  yellow  dog,  who  lay  on  the  ground  with  his  nose  resting 
between  his  paws,  and  his  eyes  turned  sleepily  up  to  her  face, 
as  if  he  were  pretending  to  give  respectful  attention,  but 
resolved  to  fall  asleep  as  soon  as  it  was  all  over. 

'You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself!'  said  the  old 
woman.  '  I  have  fed  you  well,  and  taken  care  of  you  ever 
since  you  were  small  and  blind,  and  could  only  c.  awl  abou 


i 


THE   HUNTING   CAMP.  269 

and  squeal  a  little,  instead  of  howling  as  you  do  now.  When 
you  grew  old,  I  said  you  were  a  good  dog.  You  were  strong 
and  gentle  when  the  load  was  put  on  your  back,  and  you  never 
ran  among  the  feet  of  the  horses  when  we  were  all  travelling 
together  over  the  prairie.  But  you  had  a  bad  heart !  When- 
ever a  rabbit  jumped  out  of  the  bushes,  you  were  always  the 
first  to  run  after  him  and  lead  away  all  the  other  dogs  behind  you. 
You  ought  to  have  known  that  it  was  very  dangerous  to  act  so. 
When  you  had  got  far  out  on  the  prairie,  and  no  one  was  near 
to  help  you,  perhaps  a  wolf  would  jump  out  of  the  ravine  ;  and 
then  what  could  you  do?  You  would  certainly  have  been 
killed,  for  no  dog  can  fight  well  with  a  load  on  his  back.  Only 
three  days  ago  you  ran  off  in  that  way,  and  turned  over  the 
bag  of  wooden  pins  with  which  I  used  to  fasten  up  the  front  of  the 
lodge.  Look  up  there,  and  you  will  see  that  it  is  all  flapping 
open.  And  now  to-night  you  have  stolen  a  great  piece  of  fat 
meat  which  was  roasting  before  the  fire  for  my  children.  I 
tell  you,  you  have  a  bad  heart,  and  you  must  die  !' 

So  saying,  the  squaw  went  into  the  lodge,  and  coming  out 
with  a  large  stone  mallet,  killed  the  unfortunate  dog  at  one 
blow.  This  speech  is  worthy  of  notice,  as  illustrating  a  curious 
characteristic  of  the  Indians  ;  the  ascribing  intelligence  and  a 
power  of  understanding  speech  to  the  inferior  animals ;  tc 
whom,  indeed,  according  to  many  of  their  traditions,  they  are 
linked  in  close  affinity  j  and  they  even  claim  the  honor  of  a 
lineal  descent  from  bears,  wolves,  deer  or  tortoises. 

As  it  grew  late,  and  the  crowded  population  began  to  dis- 
appear, I  too  walked  across  the  village  to  the  lodge  of  my  host, 
Kongra-Tonga.  As  I  entered,  I  saw  him,  by  the  flickering 
blaze  of  the  fire  in  the  centre,  reclining  half  asleep  in  his  usual 


270  THE   CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON   TRAIL. 

place.  His  couch  was  by  no  means  an  uncomfortable  one. 
It  consisted  of  soft  bufTalo-robcs,  laid  together  on  the  ground, 
and  a  pillow  made  of  whitened  deer-skin,  stuffed  with  feathers 
and  ornamented  with  beads.  At  his  back  was  a  light  frame- 
work of  poles  and  slender  reeds,  against  which  he  could  lean 
with  ease  when  in  a  sitting  posture  ;  and  at  the  top  of  it,  just 
above  his  head,  his  bow  and  quiver  were  hanging.  His  squaw,  a 
laughing,  broad-faced  woman,  apparently  had  not  yet  completed 
her  domestic  arrangements,  for  she  was  bustling  about  the 
lodge,  pullipg  over  the  utensils  and  the  bales  of  dried  meats 
that  were  ranged  carefully  around  it.  Unhappily,  she  and  her 
partner  were  not  the  only  tenants  of  the  dwelling  ;  for  half  a 
dozen  children  were  scattered  about,  sleeping  in  every  imagin- 
able posture.  My  saddle  was  in  its  place  at  the  head  of  the 
lodge,  and  a  buffalo-robe  was  spread  on  the  ground  before  it. 
Wrapping  myself  in  my  blanket,  I  lay  down  ;  but  had  I  not  been 
extremely  fatigued,  the  noise  in  the  next  lodge  would  have 
prevented  «my  sleeping.  There  was  the  monotonous  thumping 
of  the  Indian  drum,  mixed  with  occasional  sharp  yells,  and  a 
chorus  chanted  by  twenty  voices.  A  grand  scene  of  gambling 
was  going  forward  with  all  the  appropriate  formalities.  The 
players  were  staking  on  the  chance  issue  of  the  game  their 
ornaments,  their  horses,  and  as  the  excitement  rose,  their  gar- 
ments, and  even  their  weapons ;  for  desperate  gambling  is  not 
confined  to  the  hells  of  Paris.  The  men  of  the  plains  and  the 
forests  no  less  resort  to  it  as  a  violent  but  grateful  relief  to  the 
tedious  monotony  of  their  lives,  which  alternate  between  fierce 
excitement  and  listless  inaction.  I  fell  asleep  with  the  dull 
notes  of  the  drum  still  sounding  on  my  ear  ;  but  these  furious 
orgies  lasted  without  intermission  till  daylight.     I  was  soon 


THE   HUNTING   CAMP.  271 

awakened  by  one  of  the  children  crawling  over  me,  while 
another  larger  one  was  tugging  at  my  blanket  and  nestling 
himself  in  a  very  disagreeable  proximity.  I  immediately  re- 
pelled these  advances  by  punching  the  heads  of  these  miniature 
savages  with  a  short  stick  which  I  always  kept  by  me  for  the 
purpose  ;  and  as  sleeping  half  the  day  and  eating  much  more 
than  is  good  for  them  makes  them  extremely  restless,  this  opera- 
tion usually  had  to  be  repeated  four  or  five  times  in  ^he  course 
of  the  night.  My  host  himself  was  the  author  of  another  most 
formidable  annoyance.  All  these  Indians,  and  ^e  among  the 
rest,  think  themselves  bound  to  the  constant  performance  of 
certain  acts  as  the  condition  on  which  their  success  in  life  de- 
pends, whether  in  war,  love,  hunting,  or  any  other  employment. 
These  '  medicines,'  as  they  are  called  in  that  country,  which 
are  usually  communicated  in  dreams,  are  often  absurd  enough. 
Some  Indians  will  strike  the  butt  of  the  pipe  against  the  ground 
every  time  they  smoke  ;  others  will  insist  that  every  thing  they 
say  shall  be  interpreted  by  contraries ;  and  Shaw  once  met  an 
old  man  who  conceived  that  all  would  be  lost  unless  he  com- 
pelled every  white  man  he  met  to  drink  a  bowl  of  cold  water. 
My  host  was  particularly  fortunate  in  his  allotment.  The 
Great  Spirit  had  told  him  in  a  dream  that  he  must  sing  a  cer- 
tain song  in  the  middle  of  every  night ;  and  regularly  at  about 
twelve  o'clock  his  dismal  monotonous  chanting  would  awaken 
me,  and  I  would  see  him  seated  bolt  upright  on  his  couch, 
going  through  his  dolorous  performance  with  a  most  business- 
like air.  There  were  other  voices  of  the  night,  still  more  in- 
harmonious. Twice  or  thrice,  between  sunset  and  dawn,  all 
the  dogs  in  the  village,  and  there  were  hundreds  of  them,  would 
bay  and  yelp  in  chorus ;  a  most  horrible  clamor,  resembling 


272  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

no  sound  that  I  have  ever  heard,  except  perhaps  the  frightful 
nowling  of  wolves  that  we  used  sometimes  to  hear,  long  after- 
ward, when  descending  the  Arkansas  on  the  trail  of  Gen. 
Kearney's  army.  The  canine  uproar  is,  if  possible,  more  dis- 
cordant than  that  of  the  wolves.  Heard  at  a  distance  slowly 
rising  on  the  night,  it  has  a  strange  unearthly  eflect,  and  would 
fearfully  haunt  the  dreams  of  a  nervous  mati ;  but  when  you 
are  sleeping  in  the  midst  of  it,  the  din  is  outrageous.  One 
long  loud  howl  from  the  next  lodge  perhaps  begins  it,  and 
voice  after  voice  takes  up  the  sound,  till  it  passes  around 
the  whole  circumference  of  the  village,  and  the  air  is  filled 
with  confused  and  discordant  cries,  at  once  fierce  and  mourn- 
ful. It  lasts  but  for  a  moment,  and  then  dies  away  into 
silence. 

Morning  came,  and  Kongra- Tonga,  mounting  his  horse, 
rode  out  with  the  hunters.  It  may  not  be  amiss  to  glance  at 
him  for  an  instant  in  his  domestic  character  of  husband  and 
father.  Both  he  and  his  squaw,  like  most  other  Indians,  were 
very  fond  of  their  children,  whom  they  indulged  to  excess,  and 
never  punished,  except  in  extreme  cases,  when  they  would 
throw  a  bowl  of  cold  water  over  them.  Their  offspring  be- 
came sufficiently  undutiful  and  disobedient  under  this  system 
of  education,  which  tends  not  a  little  to  foster  that  wild  idea  of 
liberty  and  utter  intolerance  of  restraint  which  lie  at  the  very 
foundation  of  the  Indian  character.  It  would  be  hard  to  find 
a  fonder  father  than  Konera-Ton^a.  There  was  one  urchin 
in  particular,  rather  less  than  two  feet  high,  to  whom  he  was 
exceedingly  attached  ;  and  sometimes  spreading  a  buffalo-robe 
in  the  lodge,  he  would  seat  himself  upon  it,  place  his  small  fa- 
vorite upright  before  him,  and  chant  in  a  low  tone  some  of  the 


THE    HUNTING   CAMP.  273 

words  used  as  an  accompaniment  to  the  war-dance.  The  little 
fellow,  who  could  just  manage  to  balance  himself  by  stretching 
out  both  arms,  would  lift  his  feet  and  turn  slowly  round  and 
round  in  time  to  his  father's  music,  while  my  host  would  laugh 
with  delight,  and  look  smiling  up  into  my  face  to  see  if  I  were 
admiring  this  precocious  performance  of  his  offspring.  In  his 
capacity  of  husband  he  was  somewhat  less  exemplary.  The 
squaw  who  lived  in  the  lodge  with  him  had  been  his  partner  for 
many  years.  She  took  good  care  of  his  children  and  his 
household  concerns.  He  liked  her  well  enough,  and  as  far  as 
I  could  see,  they  never  quarrelled  ;  but  all  his  warmer  affec- 
tions were  reserved  for  younger  and  more  recent  favorites. 
Of  these  he  had  at  present  only  one,  who  lived  in  a  lodge  apart 
from  his  own.  One  day  while  in  his  camp,  he  became  dis- 
pleased with  her,  pushed  her  out,  thi'ew  after  her  her  orna- 
ments, dresses,  and  every  thing  she  had,  and  told  her  to  go 
home  to  her  father.  Having  consummated  this  summary  di- 
vorce, for  which  he  could  show  good  reasons,  he  came  back, 
seated  himself  in  his  usual  place,  and  began  to  smoke  with  an 
air  of  the  utmost  tranquillity  and  self-satisfaction. 

I  was  sitting  in  the  lodge  with  him  on  that  very  afternoon, 
when  I  felt  some  curiosity  to  learn  the  history  of  the  numerous 
scars  that  appeared  on  his  naked  body.  Of  some  of  them,  how- 
ever, 1  did  not  venture  to  inquire,  for  I  already  understood  their 
origin.  Each  of  his  arms  was  marked  as  if  deeply  gashed 
with  a  knife  at  regular  intervals,  and  there  were  other  scars 
also,  of  a  different  character,  on  his  back  and  on  either  breast. 
They  were  the  traces  of  those  formidable  tortures  which  these 
Indians,  in  common  with  a  few  other  tribes,  inflict  upon  them- 
selves at  certain  seasons  ;  in  part,  it  may  be,  to  gain  the  glory 


274         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

of  courage  and  endurance,  but  chiefly  as  an  act  of  self-sacrifice 
to  secure  the  favor  of  the  Great  Spirit.  The  scars  upon  the 
breast  and  back  were  produced  by  running  through  the  flesh 
strong  splints  of  wood,  to  which  ponderous  buflalo-slculls  are  fast- 
ened by  cords  of  hide,  and  the  wretch  runs  forward  with  all  his 
strength,  assisted  by  two  companions,  who  take  hold  of  each 
arm,  until  the  flesh  tears  apart  and  the  heavy  loads  are  left 
behind.  Others  of  Kongra-Tonga's  scars  were  the  result  of 
accidents ;  but  he  had  many  which  he  received  in  war.  He 
was  one  of  the  most  noted  warriors  in  the  village.  In  the 
course  of  his  life  he  had  slain,  as  he  boasted  to  me,  fourteen 
men  ;  and  though,  like  other  Indians,  he  was  a  great  braggart 
and  utterly  regardless  of  truth,  yet  in  this  statement  common 
report  bore  him  out.  Being  much  flattered  by  my  inquiries,  he 
told  me  tale  after  tale,  true  or  false,  of  his  warlike  exploits  j 
and  there  was  one  among  the  rest  illustrating  the  worst  features 
of  the  Indian  character  too  well  for  me  to  omit  it.  Pointing 
out  of  the  opening  of  the  lodge  toward  the  Medicine  Bow  Moun- 
tain, not  many  miles  distant,  he  said  that  he  was  there  a.  teiv 
summers  ago  with  a  war-party  of  his  young  men.  Here  they 
found  two  Snake  Indians,  hunting.  They  shot  one  of  them 
with  arrows,  and  chased  the  other  up  the  side  of  the  mountain 
till  they  surrounded  him  on  a  level  place,  and  Kongra-Tonga 
himself  jumping  forward  among  the  trees,  seized  him  by  the 
arm.  Two  of  his  young  men  then  ran  up  and  held  him  fast 
while  he  scalped  him  alive.  They  then  built  a  great  fire,  and 
cutting  the  tendons  of  their  captive's  wrists  and  feet,  threw  him 
in,  and  held  him  down  with  long  poles  until  he  was  burnt  to 
death.  He  garnished  his  story  with  a  great  many  descriptive 
particulars  much  too  revolting  to  mention.     His  features  were 


THE    HUNTING   CAMP. 


275 


remarkably  mild  and  open,  without  the  fierceness  of  expression 
common  among  these  Indians  ;  and  as  he  detailed  these  devilish 
cruelties,  he  looked  up  into  my  face  with  the  same  air  of  earn- 
est simplicity  which  a  little  child  would  wear  in  relating  to  its 
mother  some  anecdote  of  its  youthful  experience. 

Old  Mene-Seela's  lodge  could  offer  another  illustration  of  the 
ferocity  of  [ndian  warfare.  A  bright-eyed  active  little  boy  was 
living  there.  He  had  belonged  to  a  village  of  the  Gros- Ventre 
Blackfeet,  a  small  but  bloody  and  treacherous  band,  in  close 
alliance  with  the  Arapahoes.  About  a  year  before,  Kongra- 
Tonga  and  a  party  of  warriors  had  found  about  twenty  lodges 
of  these  Indians  upon  the  plains  a  little  to  the  eastward  of  our 
present  camp  ;  and  surrounding  them  in  the  night,  they  butch- 
ered men,  women,  and  children  without  mercy,  preserving  only 
this  little  boy  alive.  He  was  adopted  into  the  old  man's  family, 
and  was  now  fast  becoming  identified  with  the  Ogillallah  chil- 
dren, among  whom  he  mingled  on  equal  terms.  There  was 
also  a  Crow  warrior  in  the  village,  a  man  of  gigantic  stature 
and  most  symmetrical  proportions.  Having  been  taken  prisoner 
many  years  before  and  adopted  by  a  squaw  in  place  of  a  son 
whom  she  had  lost,  he  had  forgotten  his  old  national  antipa- 
thies,  and  was  now  both  in  act  and  inclination  an  Ogillallah. 

It  wiU  be  remembered  that  the  scheme  of  the  grand  warlike 
combination  against  the  Snake  and  Crow  Indians  originated  in 
this  village  ;  and  though  this  plan  had  fallen  to  the  ground,  the 
embers  of  the  martial  ardor  continued  to  glow  brightly.  Eleven 
young  men  had  prepared  themselves  to  go  out  against  the  ene- 
my. The  fourth  day  of  our  stay  in  this  camp  was  fixed  upon 
for  their  departure.  At  the  head  of  this  party  was  a  well-built, 
active  little  Indian,  called  thi  White  Shield,  whom  I  had  always 


276 


THE   CALIFORNIA    4ND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


noticed  for  the  great  neatness  of  his  dress  and  appearance. 
His  lodge  too,  though  not  a  large  one,  was  the  best  in  the  vil- 
lage, his  squaw  was  one  of  the  prettiest  girls,  and  altogether  his 
dwelling  presented  a  complete  model  of  an  Ogillallah  domestic 
establishment.  I  was  often  a  visitor  there,  for  the  White  Sliield 
being  rather  partial  to  white  men,  used  to  invite  me  to  continual 
feasts  at  all  hours  of  the  day.  Once  when  the  substantial  part 
of  the  entertainment  was  concluded,  and  he  and  I  were  seated 
cross-legged  on  a  buffalo-robe  smoking  together  very  amicably, 
he  took  down  his  warlike  equipments,  which  were  hanging 
around  the  lodge,  and  displayed  them  with  great  pride  and  self- 
importance.  Among  the  rest  was  a  most  superb  head-dress  of 
feathers.  Taking  this  from  its  case,  he  put  it  on  and  stood 
before  me,  as  if  conscious  of  the  gallant  air  which  it  gave  to 
his  dark  face  and  his  vigorous  graceful  figure.  He  told  me 
that  upon  it  were  the  feathers  of  three  war-eagles,  equal  in 
value  to  the  same  number  of  good  horses.  He  took  up  also  a 
shield  gayly  painted  and  hung  with  feathers.  The  effect  of 
these  barbaric  ornaments  was  admirable,  for  they  were  arranged 
with  no  little  skill  and  taste.  His  quiver  was  made  of  the  spot- 
ted skin  of  a  small  panther,  such  as  are  common  among  the 
Black  Hills,  from  which  the  tail  and  distended  claws  were  still 
allowed  to  hang.  The  White  Shield  concluded  his  entertain- 
ment in  a  manner  characteristic  of  an  Indian.  He  beffged  of 
me  a  little  powder  and  ball,  for  he  had  a  gun  as  well  as  bow 
and  arrows ;  but  this  I  was  obliged  to  refuse,  because  I  had 
scarcely  enough  for  my  own  use.  Making  him,  however,  a 
parting  present  of  a  paper  of  vermilion,  I  left  him  apparently 
quite  contented. 

Unhappily  on  the  next  morning  the  White  Shield  took  cold. 


THE   HUNTING   CAMP.  277 

and  was  attacked  with  a  violent  inflammation  of  the  throat. 
Immediately  he  seemed  to  lose  all  spirit,  and  though  before  no 
warrior  in  the  village  had  borne  himself  more  proudly,  he  now 
moped  about  from  lodge  to  lodge  with  a  forlorn  and  dejected 
air.  At  length  he  came  and  sat  down,  close  wrapped  in  his 
robe,  before  the  lodge  of  Reynal,  but  when  he  found  that 
neither  he  nor  I  knew  how  to  relieve  him,  he  arose  and  stalked 
over  to  one  of  the  medicine-men  of  the  village.  This  old  im- 
postor thumped  him  for  some  time  with  both  fists,  howled  and 
yelped  over  him,  and  beat  a  drum  close  to  his  ear  to  expel  the 
evil  spirit  that  had  taken  possession  of  him.  This  vigorous 
treatment  failing  of  the  desired  effect,  the  White  Shield  with- 
drew to  his  own  lodge,  where  he  lay  disconsolate  for  some 
hours.  Making  his  appearance  once  more  in  the  afternoon,  he 
again  took  his  seat  on  the  ground  before  Reynal's  lodge,  hold- 
ing his  throat  with  his  hand.  For  some  time  he  sat  perfectly 
silent  with  his  eyes  fixed  mournfully  on  the  ground.  At  last 
he  began  to  speak  in  a  low  tone : 

'I  am  a  brave  man,'  he  said ;  *  all  the  young  men  think 
me  a  great  warrior,  and  ten  of  them  are  ready  to  go  with  me 
to  the  war.  I  will  go  and  show  them  the  enemy.  Last  sum- 
mer the  Snakes  killed  my  brother.  I  cannot  live  unless  I  re- 
venge his  death.  To-morrow  we  will  set  out  and  I  will  take 
their  scalps.' 

The  White  Shield,  as  he  expressed  this  resolution,  seemed 
to  have  lost  all  the  accustomed  fire  and  spirit  of  his  look,  and 
hung  his  head  as  if  in  a  "fit  of  despondency. 

As  I  was  sitting  that  evening  at  one  of  the  fires,  I  saw  him 
arrayed  in  his  splendid  war-dress,  his  cheeks  painted  with 
vermilion,  leading  his  favorite  war-horse  to  the  front  of  his 


THE     HUNTER'S    DEFENSE. 


BORDER     PERILS. 


278  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

lodge.  He  mounted  and  rode  round  the  village,  singing  his 
war-song  in  a  loud  hoarse  voice  amid  the  shrill  acclamations  of 
the  women.  Then  dismounting,  he  I'emained  for  some  minutes 
prostrate  upon  the  ground,  as  if  in  an  act  of  supplication.  On 
the  following  morning  I  looked  in  vain  for  the  departure  of  the 
warriors.  All  was  quiet  in  the  village  until  late  in  the  fore- 
noon, when  the  White  Shield  issuing  from  his  lodge,  came  and 
seated  himself  in  his  old  place  before  us.  Reynal  asked  him 
why  he  had  not  gone  out  to  find  the  enemy  ? 

*  I  cannot  go,'  answered  the  White  Shield  in  a  dejected 
voice.     '  I  have  given  my  war-arrows  to  the  Meneaska.' 

'  You  have  only  given  him  two  of  your  arrows,'  said  Rey- 
nal.    '  If  you  ask  him,  he  will  give  them  back  again.' 

For  some  time  the  White  Shield  said  nothing.  At  last  he 
epoke  in  a  gloomy  tone  : 

'  One  of  my  young  men  has  had  bad  dreams.  The  spirits 
of  the  dead  came  and  threw  stones  at  him  in  his  sleep.' 

If  such  a  dream  had  actually  taken  place  it  might  have 
broken  up  this  or  any  other  war-party,  but  both  Reynal  and  I 
were  convinced  at  the  time  that  it  was  a  mere  fabrication  to 
excuse  his  remaining  at  home. 

The  White  Shield  was  a  warrior  of  noted  prowess.  Very 
probably,  he  would  have  received  a  mortal  wound  without  the 
show  of  pain,  and  endured  without  flinching  the  worst  tortures 
that  an  enemy  could  inflict  upon  him.  The  whole  power  of 
an  Indian's  nature  would  be  summoned  to  encounter  such  a 
trial  ;  every  influence  of  his  education  from  childhood  would 
have  prepared  him  for  it ;  the  cause  of  his  suffering  would 
have  been  visibly  and  palpably  before  him,  and  his  spirit  would 
rise  to  set  his  enemy  at  defiance,  and  gain  the  highest  glory  of 


THE    HUNTING   CAMP.  279 

a  warrior  by  meeting  death  with  fortitude.  But  when  he  feels 
himself  attacked  by  a  mysterious  evil,  before  whose  insidious 
assaults  his  manhood  is  wasted,  and  his  strength  drained  away, 
when  he  can  see  no  enemy  to  resist  and  defy,  the  boldest  war- 
rior falls  prostrate  at  once.  He  believes  that  a  bad  spirit  has 
taken  possession  of  him,  or  that  he  is  the  victim  of  some  charm. 
When  suffering  from  a  protracted  disorder,  an  Indian  will 
often  abandon  himself  to  his  supposed  destiny,  pine  away  and 
die,  the  victim  of  his  own  imagination.  The  same  effect  will 
often  follow  from  a  series  of  calamities,  or  a  long  run  of  ill- 
success,  and  the  sufferer  has  been  known  to  ride  into  the  midst 
of  an  enemy's  camp,  or  attack  a  grizzly  bear  single-handed, 
to  get  rid  of  a  life  which  he  supposed  to  lie  under  the  doom  of 
misfortune. 

Thus  after  all  his  fasting,  dreaming,  and  calling  upon  the 
Great  Spirit,  the  White  Shield's  war-party  was  pitifully  bro- 
ken up. 


19" 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE      TRAPPERS. 

•'Ours  the  wild  life,  in  tumult  still  to  range, 
From  toil  to  rest,  and  joy  in  every  change ; 
The  exulting  sense,  the  pulse's  maddening  play. 
That  thrills  the  wanderer  of  tlie  trackless  way ; 
That  for  itself  can  woo  the  approaching  fight, 
And  turn  what  some  deem  danger  to  delight : 
Come  when  it  will  we  snatch  the  life  of  life ; 
When  lost,  what  recks  it  by  disease  or  strife  1" 

The  Corsair. 

In  speaking  of  the  Indians,  I  have  ahyiost  forgotten  two  bold 
adventurers  of  another  race,  the  trappers  Rouleau  and  Sara- 
phin.  These  men  were  bent  on  a  most  hazardous  enterprise. 
A  day's  journey  to  the  westward  was  the  country  over  which 
the  Arapahoes  are  accustomed  to  range,  and  for  which  the 
two  trappers  were  on  the  point  of  setting  out.  These  Ara- 
pahoes, of  whom  Shaw  and  I  afterwards  fell  in  with  a  large 
village,  are  ferocious  barbarians,  of  a  most  brutal  and  wolfish 
aspect ;  and  of  late  they  had  declared  themselves  enemies  to 
the  whites,  and  threatened  death  to  the  first  who  should  venture 
w'ithin  their  territory.  The  occasion  of  the  declaration  was  as 
follows ; 


THE    TRAPPERS,  281 

In  the  previous  spring,  1845,  Col.  Kearney  left  Fort 
Leavenworth  with  several  companies  of  dragoons,  and  march- 
ing with  extraordiiiary  celerity,  reached  Fort  Laramie,  whence 
he  passed  along  the  foot  of  the  mountains  to  Bent's  Fort,  and 
then,  turning  eastward  again,  returned  to  the  point  from  whence 
he  set  out.  While  at  Fort  Laramie,  he  sent  a  part  of  his  com- 
mand as  far  westward  as  Sweetwater,  while  he  himself  re- 
mained at  the  fort,  and  dispatched  messages  to  the  surrounding 
Indians  to  meet  him  there  in  council.  Then  for  the  first  time 
the  tribes  of  that  vicinity  saw  the  white  warriors,  and,  as  might 
have  been  expected,  they  were  lost  in  astonishment  at  their 
regular  order,  their  gay  attire,  the  completeness  of  their  martial 
equipment,  and  the  great  size  and  power  of  their  horses. 
Among  the  rest,  the  Arapahoes  came  in  considerable  numbers 
to  the  fort.  They  had  lately  committed  numerous  acts  of  out- 
rage, and  Col.  Kearney  threatened  that  if  they  killed  any  more 
white  men  he  would  turn  loose  his  dragoons  upon  them,  and 
annihilate  their  whole  nation.  In  the  evening,  to  add  effect  to 
his  speech,  he  ordered  a  howitzer  to  be  fired  and  a  rocket  to  be 
thrown  up.  Many  of  the  Arapahoes  fell  prostrate  on  the 
ground,  while  others  ran  away  screaming  with  amazement  and 
terror.  On  the  following  day  they  withdrew  to  their  moun- 
tains, confounded  with  awe  at  the  appearance  of  the  dragoons, 
at  their  big  gun  which  went  off  twice  at  one  shot,  and  the  fiery 
messenger  which  they  had  sent  up  to  the  Great  Spirit.  For 
many  months  they  remained  quiet,  and  did  no  farther  mischief. 
At  length,  just  before  we  came  into  the  country,  one  of  them, 
by  an  act  of  the  basest  treachery,  killed  two  white  men.  Boot 
and  May,  who  were  trapping  among  the  mountains.  •  For  this 
act  it  was  impossible  to  discover  a  motive.    It  seemed  to  spring 


282  THIC    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

fro.'ii  one  of  tlioso  inexplicable  impulses  which  often  actuate 
Indians,  and  appear  no  better  than  the  r.iere  outbreaks  of  native 
ferocity.  No  sooner  was  the  murder  committed  than  the  whole 
tribe  were  in  extreme  consternation.  They  expected  every 
day  that  the  avenging  dragoons  would  arrive,  little  tliinking 
that  a  desert  of  nine  hundred  miles  in  extent  lay  between  the 
latter  and  their  mountain  fastnesses.  A  large  deputation  of 
them  caiiiC  to  Fort  Laramie,  bringing  a  valuable  present  of 
horses,  in  compensation  for  the  lives  of  the  murdered  men. 
These  Bordeaux  refused  to  accept.  They  then  asked  hiui  if 
he  would  be  satisfied  with  their  delivering  up  the  murderer 
himself;  but  he  declined  this  offer  also'.  The  Arapahoes  went 
back  more  terrified  than  ever.  Weeks  passed  away,  and  still 
no  dragoons  appeared.  A  result  followed  which  all  those  best 
acquainted  with  Indians  had  predicted.  They  conceived  that 
fear  had  prevented  Bordeaux  from  accepting  their  gifts,  and 
that  they  had  nothing  to  apprehend  from  the  vengeance  of  the 
whites.  From  terror  they  rose  to  the  height  of  insolence  and 
presumption.  They  called  the  white  men  cowards  and  old 
women  ;  and  a  friendly  Dahcotah  came  to  Fort  Laramie  and 
reported  tiiat  they  were  determined  to  kill  the  first  of  the  white 
dogs  whom  they  could  lay  hands  on. 

Had  a  military  oflicer,  intrusted  with  suitable  powers,  been 
stationed  at  Fort  Laramie,  and  having  accepted  the  offer  of  the 
Arapahoes  to  deliver  up  the  murderer,  had  ordered  him  to  be 
immediately  led  out  and  shot,  in  presence  of  his  tribe,  they 
Would  have  been  awed  into  tranquillity,  and  much  danger  and 
calamity  averted  ;  but  now  the  neighborhood  of  the  Medicine 
Bow  Mountain  and  the  region  beyond  it  was  a  scene  of  extreme 
peril.     Old  Mene-Seela,  a  true  friend  of  the  whites,  and  many 


THE    TRAPPERS. 


283 


Other  of  the  Indians,  gathered  about  the  two  trappers,  and 
vainly  endeavored  to  turn  them  from  their  purpose ;  but  Rou- 
leau and  Saraphin  only  laughed  at  the  danger.  On  the  morn- 
ing preceding  that  on  which  they  were  to  leave  the  camp,  we 
could  all  discern  faint  white  columns  of  smoke  rising  against  th 
dark  base  of  the  Medicine  Bow.  Scouts  were  out  immediately. 
and  reported  that  these  proceeded  from  an  Arapahoe  camp, 
abandoned  only  a  few  hours  before.  Still  the  two  trappers  con- 
tinued their  preparations  for  departure. 

Saraphin  was  a  tall,  powerful  fellow,  with  a  sullen  and 
sinister  countenance.  His  rifle  had  very  probably  drawn  other 
blood  than  that  of  buffalo  or  even  Indians.  Rouleau  had  a  bi'oad 
ruddy  face,  marked  with  as  few  traces  of  thought  or  of  care  as  a 
child's.  His  figure  was  remarkably  square  and  strong,  but 
the  first  joints  of  both  his  feet  were  frozen  off,  and  his  horse 
had  lately  thrown  and  trampled  upon  him,  by  which  he  had 
been  severely  injured  in  the  chest.  But  nothing  could  check 
his  inveterate  propensity  for  laughter  and  gayety.  He  went 
all  day  rolling  about  the  camp  on  his  stumps  of  feet,  talking 
and  singing  and  frolicking  with  the  Indian  women,  as  they 
were  engatred  at  their  work.  In  fact  Rouleau  had  an  unlucky 
partiality  for  squaws.  He  always- had  one,  whom  he  must 
needs  bedizen  with  beads,  ribbons,  and  all  the  finery  of  an 
Indian  wardrobe ;  and  though  he  was  of  course  obliged  to  leave 
her  behind  him  during  his  expeditions,  yet  this  hazardous 
necessity  did  not  at  all  trouble  him,  for  his  disposition  was  the 
very  reverse  of  jealous.  If  at  any  time  he  had  not  lavished 
the  whole  of  the  precarious  profits  of  his  vocation  upon  his 
dark  favorite,  he  always  devoted  the  rest  to  feasting  his  com- 
rades.    If  liquor  was  not  to  be  had — and   this  was  usually  the 


284 


TIIK    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


case — strong  coUbe  would  be  substituted.  As  the  men  of  thai 
region  arc  by  no  nieiims  remarkable  for  providence  or  se.f-re- 
straint,  wlmtevcr  was  set  before  them  on  these  occasions,  how- 
ever extravagant  in  price  or  enormous  in  quantity,  was  sure  to  be 
disposed  of  at  one  sitting.  Like  other  trai)i)crs,  Rouleau's  life 
was  one  of  contrast  and  variety.  It  was  only  at  certain 
seasons,  and  for  a  liniited  time,  that  he  was  absent  on  his  expe- 
ditions. For  the  rest  of  the  year  he  would  be  lounging  about 
the  fort,  or  encamped  with  his  friends  in  its  vicinity,  lazily 
hunting  or  enjoying  all  the  luxury  of  inaction ;  but  when  once 
in  pursuit  of  the  beaver,  he  was  involved  in  extreme  privations 
and  desperate  perils.  When  in  the  midst  of  his  game  and  liis 
enemies,  hand  and  foot,  eye  and  ear,  are  incessantly  active. 
Frequently  he  must  content  himself  with  devouring  his  evening 
meal  uncooked,  lest  the  light  of  his  fire  should  attract  the  eyes 
of  some  wandering  Indian ;  and  sometimes  having  made  his 
rude  repast,  he  must  leave  his  fire  still  blazing,  and  withdraw 
to  a  distance  under  cover  of  the  darkness,  that  his  disappointed 
enemy,  drawn  thither  by  the  light,  may  find  his  victim  gone, 
and  be  unable  to  trace  his  footsteps  in  the  gloom.  This  is  the 
life  led  by  scores  of  men  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  their 
vicinity.  I  once  met  a  trapper  whose  breast  was  marked  with 
the  scars  of  six  bullets  and  arrows,  one  of  his  arms  broken  by 
a  shot  and  one  of  his  knees  t>nattered  ;  yet  still,  with  the 
undaunted  mettle  of  New-England,  from  which  part  of  the 
country  he  had  come,  he  continued  to  folltw  his  perilous 
occupation.  To  some  of  the  children  of  cities  it  may  seem 
strange,  that  men  with  no  object  in  view  should  continue  to 
follow  a  life  of  such  hardship  and  desperate  adventure,  yet  there 
is  a  mysterious,  resistless  charm  in  the  basilisk  eye  of  danger, 


Tllli;    TRAPPERS. 


2S5 


and  i^ew  men  perhaps  remain  lonj^  in  tliat  wild  region  witliout 
learning  to  love  peril  for  its  own  sake,  and  to  laugh  carelessly 
in  the  face  of  death. 

On  the  last  day  of  our  stay  in  this  camp,  the  trappers  were 
ready  for  departure.  When  in  the  Black  Hills  they  had 
caught  seven  beaver,  and  tlicy  now  left  their  skins  in  charge 
of  Reynal,  to  be  kept  until  their  return.  Their  strong,  gaunt 
liorses,  were  equipped  with  rusty  Spanish  bits,  and  rude  Mexi- 
can saddles,  to  which  wooden  stirrups  were  attached,  while  a 
bufFalo-robe  was  rolled  uj)  bcliind  tliem,  and  a  bundle  of  beaver 
traps  slung  at  the  pommel.  These,  togcslher  with  their  rifles, 
their  knives,  their  powder-horns  and  bullet-pouches,  flint  and 
steel  and  a  tin  cup,  composed  tlicir  wliole  travelling  equip, 
ment.  They  shook  hands  with  us,  and  rode  away ;  Saraphin 
with  his  grim  countenance,  like  a  surly  bull-dog's,  was  in 
advance  ;  but  Rouleau,  clambering  gayly  into  his  seat,  kicked 
his  liorse's  sides,  flourished  his  whip  in  the  air,  and  trotted 
briskly  over  the  prairie,  trolling  forth  a  Canadian  song  at  the 
top  of  his  lungs.  Reynal  looked  after  them  with  his  face  of 
brutal  selfishness. 

'  Well,'  he  said,  '  if  they  are  killed,  I  shall  have  tlie  beaver. 
They'll  fetch  me  fifty  dollars  at  the  fort,  any  how.' 

This  was  the  last  I  saw  of  them. 

We  had  been  for  five  days  in  the  hunting-camp,  and  the 
meat,  which  all  this  time  had  hung  drying  in  the  sun,  was  now 
fit  for  transportation.  Buflalo-hides  also  had  been  procured  in 
sufilcient  quantities  for  making  the  next  season's  lodges ;  but 
it  remained  to  provide  the  long  slender  poles  on  which  they 
were  to  be  supported.  These  were  only  to  be  had  among  the 
tall  pine  woods  of  the  Black  Hills,  and  in  that  direction  there- 


286  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

fore  our  next  move  was  to  be  made.  It  is  worthy  of  notice 
that  amid  the  general  abundance  which  during  this  time  had 
prevailed  in  the  camp,  there  were  no  instances  of  individual 
privation  ;  for  although  the  hide  and  the  tongue  of  the  buffalo 
belong  by  exclusive  right  to  the  hunter  who  has  killed  it,  yet 
any  one  else  is  equally  entitled  to  help  himself  from  the  rest 
of  the  carcass.  Thus  the  weak,  the  aged,  and  even  the  indo- 
lent come  in  for  a  share  of  the  spoils,  and  many  a  helpless  old 
woman,  who  would  otherwise  perish  from  starvation,  is  sus- 
tained in  profuse  abundance. 

On  the  twenty-fifth  of  July,  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  camp 
broke  up,  with  the  usual  tumult  and  confusion,  and  we  were 
all  moving  once  more,  on  horseback  and  on  foot,  over  the 
plains.  We  advanced  however  but  a  few  miles.  The  old 
men,  who  during  the  whole  march  had  been  stoutly  striding 
along  on  foot  in  front  of  the  people,  now  seated  themselves  in  a 
circle  on  the  ground,  while  all  the  families  erecting  their  lodges 
in  the  prescribed  order  around  them,  formed  the  usual  great 
circle  of  the  camp  ;  meanwhile  these  village  patriarchs  sat 
smoking  and  talking.  I  threw  my  bridle  to  Raymond,  and  sat 
down  as  usual  along  with  them.  There  was  none  of  that  re- 
serve and  apparent  dignity  which  an  Indian  always  assumes 
when  in  council,  or  in  the  presence  of  white  men  whom  he  dis- 
trusts. The  party,  on  the  contrary,  was  an  extremely  merry- 
one,  and  as  in  a  social  circle  of  a  quite  different  character,  '  if 
there  was  not  much  wit,  there  was  at  least  a  great  deal  of 
laughter.' 

When  the  first  pipe  was  smoked  out,  I  rose  and  withdrew  to 
the  lodge  of  my  host.  Here  I  was  stooping,  in  the  act  of 
taking  off  my  powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch,  when  suddenly 


THE    TRAPPERS. 


287 


and  close  at  hand,  pealing  loud  and  shrill,  und  in  right  good 
earnest,  came  the  terrific  yell  of  the  war-whoop.  Kongra- 
Tonga's  squaw  snatched  up  her  youngest  child,  and  ran  out 
of  the  lodge.  I  followed,  and  found  the  whole  village  in  con- 
fusion, resounding  with  cries  and  yells.  The  circle  of  old  men 
in  the  centre  had  vanished.  The  warriors  with  glittering  eyes 
came  darting,  their  weapons  in  their  hands,  out  of  the  low 
openings  of  the  lodges,  and  running  with  wild  yells  toward  the 
farther  end  of  the  village.  Advancing  a  few  rods  in  that  di- 
rection, I  saw  a  crowd  in  furious  agitation,  while  others  ran 
up  on  every  side  to  add  to  the  confusion.  Just  then  I  distin- 
guished the  voices  of  Raymond  and  Reynal,  shouting  to  me  from 
a  distance,  and  looking  back,  I  saw  ihe  latter  with  his  rifle  in 
his  hand,  standing  on  the  farther  bank  of  a  little  stream  that 
ran  along  the  outskirts  of  the  camp.  He  was  calling  to  Ray- 
mond and  myself  to  come  over  and  join  him,  and  Raymond, 
with  his  usual  deliberate  gait  and  stolid  countenance,  was 
already  moving  in  that  direction. 

Tliis  was  clearly  the  wisest  course,  unless  we  wished  to 
involve  ourselves  in  the  fray  ;  so  I  turned  to  go,  but  just  then 
a  pair  of  eyes,  gleaming  like  a  snake's,  and  an  aged  familiar 
countenance  was  thrust  from  tiie  opening  of  a  neighboring 
lodge,  and  out  bolted  old  Mene-Seela,  full  of  fight,  clutching 
his  bow  and  ari'ows  in  one  hand  and  his  knife  in  the  other.  At 
that  intsant  he  tripped  and  fell  sprawling  on  his  face,  while  his 
weapons  flew  scattering  away  in  every  direction.  The  wo- 
men with  loud  screams  were  hurrying  with  their  children  in 
their  arms  to  place  them  out  of  danger,  and  I  observed  some 
hastening  to  prevent  mischief,  by  carrying  away  all  the  wea- 
pons they  could  lay  hands  on.     On   a  rising   ground   close  to 


l^ 


288 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OKEGON    TRAIL. 


tlie  camp  stood  a  line  of  old  women  singing  a  medicine-song  to 
allay  the  tumult.  As  I  approached  the  side  of  the  hrook,  .1 
heard  gu:i-shots  behind  me,  and  turning  back,  I  saw  that  the 
crowd  had  separated  into  two  long  lines  of  naked  warriors  con- 
fronting each  other  at  a  respectful  distance,  and  yelling  and 
jumping  about  to  dodge  the  shot  of  their  adversaries,  while 
'hey  discharged  bullets  and  arrows  against  each  other.  At 
the  same  time  certain  sharp,  humming  sounds  in  the  air  over 
my  head,  like  the  flight  of  beetles  on  a  summer  evening, 
warned  me  that  the  danger  was  not  wholly  confined  to  the  im- 
mediate scene  of  the  fray.  So  wading  through  the  brook,  I 
joined  Reynal  and  Raymond,  and  we  sat  down  on  the  grass, 
in  the  posture  of  an  armed  neutrality,  to  watch  the  result. 

Happily  it  may  be  for  ourselves,  though  quite  contrary  to 
our  expectation,  the  disturbance  was  quelled  almost  as  soon  as 
it  had  commenced.  When  I  looked  again,  the  combatants 
were  Qpce  more  mingled  together  in  a  mass.  Though  yells 
sounded  occasionally  from  the  throng,  the  firing  had  entirely 
ceased,  and  I  observed  five  or  six  persons  moving  busily  about, 
as  if  acting  the  part  of  peace-makers.  One  of  the  village  her- 
aids  or  criers  proclaimed  in  a  loud  voice  something  which  my 
two  companions  were  too  much  engrossed  in  their  own  obser- 
vations, to  translate  for  me.  The  crowd  began  to  disperse, 
though  many  a  deep-set  black  eye  still  glittered  with  an  un- 
natural lustre,  as  the  warriors  slowly  withdrew  to  their  lodges. 
This  fortunate  suppression  of  the  disturbance  was  owing  to  a 
few  of  the  old  men,  less  pugnacious  than  Mene-Seela,  who 
boldly  ran  in  between  the  combatants,  and  aided  by  some  of 
the  '  soldiers,'  or  Indian  police,  succeeded  in  effecting  their 
object. 


THE    TRAPPERS.  289 

It  seemed  very  strange  to  me  that  although  many  arrows 
and  bullets  were  discharged,  no  one  was  mortally  hurt,  and  I 
could  only  account  for  this  by  the  fact  that  both  the  marksman 
and  the  object  of  his  aim  were  leaping  about  incessantly  during 
the  whole  time.  By  far  the  'greater  part  of  the  villagers  had 
joined  in  the  fray,  for  although  there  were  not  more  than  a 
dozen  guns  in  the  whole  camp,  I  heard  at  least  eight  or  ten 
shots  fired. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  all  was  comparatively  quiet.  A 
large  circle  of  warriors  was  again  seated  in  the  centre  of  the 
village,  but  this  time  I  did  not  venture  to  join  them,  because  I 
could  see  that  the  pipe,  contrary  to  the  usual  order,  was  passing 
from  the  left  hand  to  the  right  around  the  circle  ;  a  sure  sign 
that  a  '  medicine-smoke  '  of  reconciliation  was  going  forward, 
and  that  a  white  man  would  be  an  unwelcome  intruder,  Wlien 
I  again  entered  the  still  agitated  camp  it  was  nearly  dark,  and 
mournful  cries,  howls,  and  wailings  resounded  from  ^lany 
female  voices.  Whether  these  had  any  connection  with  the 
late  disturbance,  or  were  merely  lamentations  for  relatives  slain 
in  some  former  war  expeditions,  I  could  not  distinctly  ascertain. 

To  inquire  too  closely  into  the  cause  of  the  quarrel  was  by 
no  means  prudent,  and  it  was  not  until  some  time  after  that  I 
discovered  what  had  given  rise  to  it.  Among  the  Dahcotah 
there  are  many  associations,  or  fraternities,  connected  with  the 
purposes  of  their  superstitions,' their  warfare,  or  their  social  life. 
There  was  one  called  '  The  Arrow-Beakers,'  now  in  a  great 
measure  disbanded  and  dispersed.  In  the  village  there  were 
however  four  men  belonging  to  it,  distinguished  by  the  peculiar 
arrangement  of  their  hair,  which  rose  in  a  high  bristling  mass 
above  their  foreheads,  adding  greatly  to  their  apparent  height, 

13 


290 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


and  giving  them  a  most  ferocious  appoaranco.  The  principal 
among  them  was  the  Mad  Wolf,  a  warrior  of  remarkable  size 
and  strength,  groat  courage,  and  the  fierceness  of  a  demon.  I 
had  always  looked  upon  him  as  the  most  dangerous  man  in  tlio 
village  ;  and  though  he  often  invited  me  to  feasts,  I  never  en- 
tered his  lodge  unarmed.  The  Mad  Wol  had  taken  a  fancy- 
to  a  fine  horse  belonging  to  another  Indian,  who  was  called  the 
Tall  Bear  ;  and  anxious  to  get  the  animal  into  his  possession,  he 
made  the  owner  a  present  of  another  horse  nearly  equal  in 
value.  According  to  the  customs  of  the  J3ahcotah,  the  accept- 
ance of  this  gift  involved  a  sort  of  obligation  to  make  an  equi- 
table return ;  and  the  Tall  Bear  well  understood  that  the  other 
had  in  view  the  obtaining  of  his  favorite  butfalo-horse.  He 
however  accepted  the  present  without  a  word  of  thanks,  and 
having  picketed  the  horse  before  his  lodge,  he  suffered  day  after 
day  to  pass  without  making  the  expected  return.  The  Mad 
Wolf  grew  impatient  and  angry  ;  and  at  last,  seeing  that  his 
bounty  was  not  likely  to  produce  the  desired  return,  he  resolved 
to  reclaim  it.  So  this  evening,  as  soon  as  the  village  was  en- 
camped, he  went  to  the  lodge  of  the  Tall  Bear,  seized  upon  the 
horse  that  he  had  given  him,  and  led  him  away.  At  this  the 
Tall  Bear  broke  into  one  of  those  fits  of  sullen  rage  not  uncom- 
mon among  the  Indians.  He  ran  up  to  the  unfortunate  horse, 
and  gave  him  three  mortal  stabs  with  his  knife.  Quick  as 
lightning  the  Mad  Wolf  drew  his  bow  to  its  utmost  tension,  and 
held  the  arrow  quivering  close  to  the  breast  of  his  adversary. 
The  Tall  Beai',  as  the  Indians  who  were  near  him  said,  stood 
with  his  bloody  knife  in  his  hand,  facing  the  assailant  with  tne 
utmost  calmness.  Some  of  his  friends  and  relatives,  seeing  his 
danger,  ran  hastily  to  his   assistance.     The  remaining  three 


THE    TRAPPERS.  .  291 

Arrow-Breakers,  on  the  other  hand,  came  to  the  aid  of  their 
associate.  Many  of  their  friends  joined  them,  the  war-cry  was 
raised  on  a  sudden,  and  the  tumult  became  general. 

The  '  soldiers,'  who  lent  their  timely  aid  in  putting  it  down, 
are  by  far  the  most  important  executive  functionaries  in  an  In- 
dian village.  The  office  is  one  of  considerable  honor,  being 
confided  only  to  men  of  courage  and  repute.  They  derive 
their  authority  from  the  old  men  and  chief  warriors  of  the  vil- 
lage, who  elect  them  in  councils  occasionally  convened  for  the 
purpose,  and  thus  can  exercise  a  degree  of  authority  which  no 
one  else  in  the  village  would  dare  to  assume.  While  very  few 
Ogillallah  chiefs  could  venture  without  instant  jeopardy  of  their 
lives  to  strike  or  lay  hands  upon  the  meanest  of  their  people, 
the  '  soldiers,'  in  the  discharge  of  their  appropriate  functions, 
have  full  license  to  make  use  of  these  and  similar  acts  of  coer- 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE     BLACK     HILLS. 

"  To  sit  oa  rocks,  to  muse  o'er  flood  and  fell, 
To  slowly  trace  the  forest's  shady  scene, 
Where  things  that  own  not  man's  dominion  dwell, 
And  mortal  fool  hath  ne'er,  or  rarely  been  ; 
To  climb  the  trackless  mountain  all  nnseen, 
With  the  wild  flock  that  never  needs  a  fold  ; 
Alone  o'er  steeps  and  foaming  falls  to  lean  ; 
This  is  not  solitode ;  'tis  but  to  hold 
Converse  with  Nature's  charms,  and  view  her  stores  nnrolled." 

Childe  Harold. 

We  travelled  eastward  for  two  days,  and  then  the  gloomy 
ndges  of  the  Black  Hills  rose  up  before  us.  The  village  passed 
along  for  some  miles  beneath  their  declivities,  trailing  out  to  a 
great  length  over  the  arid  prairie,  or  winding  at  times  among 
small  detached  hills  of  distorted  shapes.  Turning  sharply  to 
the  left,  we  entered  a  wide  defile  of  the  mountains,  down  the 
bottom  of  which  a  brook  came  winding,  lined  with  tall  grass 
and  dense  copses,  amid  which  were  hidden  many  beaver  dams 
and  lodges.  We  passed  along  between  two  lines  of  high  preci- 
pices and  rocks,  piled  in  utter  disorder  one  upon  another,  and 
with  scarcely  a  tree,  a  bush,  or  a  clump  of  grass  to  veil  their 


i 


THE    BLACK    HILLS.  293 

nakedness.  The  restless  Indian  boys  were  wandering  along 
their  edges  and  clambering  up  and  down  their  rugged  sides, 
and  sometimes  a  group  of  them  would  stand  on  the  verge  of  a 
cliff  and  look  down  on  the  array  as  it  passed  in  review  beneath 
them.  As  we  advanced,  the  passage  grew  more  narrow;  then 
it  suddenly  expanded  into  a  round  grassy  meadow,  completely 
encompassed  by  mountains ;  and  here  the  families  stopped  as 
they  came  up  in  turn,  and  the  camp  rose  like  magic. 

The  lodges  were  hardly  erected  when,  with  their  usual  pre- 
cipitation, the  Indians  set  about  accomplishing  the  object  that 
had  brought  them  there  ;  that  is,  the  obtaining  poles  for  sup- 
porting- their  new  lodges.  Half  the  population,  men,  women, 
and  boys,  mounted  their  horses  and  set  out  for  the  interior  of 
the  mountains.  As  they  rode  at  full  gallop  over  the  shingly 
rocks  and  into  the  dark  opening  of  the  defile  beyond,  I  thought 
I  had  never  read  or  dreamed  of  a  more  strange  or  picturesque 
cavalcade.  We  passed  between  precipices  more  than  a  thou- 
sand feet  high,  sharp  and  splintering  at  the  tops,  their  sides 
beetling  over  the  defile  or  descending  in  abrupt  declivities, 
bristling  with  black  fir-trees.  On  our  left  they  rose  close  to  us 
like  a  wall,  but  on  the  right  a  winding  brook  with  a  narrow 
strip  of  marshy  soil  intervened.  The  stream  was  clogged  with 
old  beaver-dams,  and  spread  frequently  into  wide  pools.  There 
were  thick  bushes  and  many  dead  and  blasted  trees  along  its 
course,  though  frequently  nothing  remained  but  stumps  cut 
close  to  the  ground  by  the  beaver,  and  marked  with  the  sharp 
chisel-like  teeth  of  those  indefatigable  laborers.  Sometimes  we 
were  diving  among  trees,  and  then  emerging  upon  open  spots, 
over  which,  Indian-like,  all  galloped  at  full  speed.  As  Pauline 
bounded  over  the  rocks  I  felt  her  saddle-girth  slipping,  and 


294 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 


alighted  to  draw  it  tigliter ;  when  the  whole  array  swept  past 
me  in  a  moment,  the  women  with  their  gaudy  ornaments  tink- 
ling as  tliey  rode,  the  men  whooping,  and  laughing,  and  lashing 
forward  their  liorses.  Two  black-tailed  deer  bounded  away 
among  the  rocks ;  Raymond  shot  at  them  from  horseback  ;  the 
sharp  report  of  his  rifle  was  answered  by  another  equally  sharp 
from  the  opposing  clifTs,  and  then  the  echoes,  leaping  in  rapid 
succession  from  side  to  side,  died  away  rattling  far  amid  the 
mountains. 

After  having  ridden  in  this  manner  for  six  or  eight  miles, 
the  appearance  of  the  scene  began  to  change,  and  all  the  de- 
clivities around  us  were  covered  with  forests  of  tall,  slender 
pine-trees.  The  Indians  began  to  fall  off  to  the  right  and  left, 
and  dispersed  with  their  hatchets  and  knives  among  these  woods, 
to  cut  the  poles  which  they  had  come  to  seek.  Soon  I  was  left 
almost  alone ;  but  in  the  deep  stillness  of  those  lonely  moun- 
tains, the  stroke  of  hatchets  and  the  sound  of  voices  might  be 
heard  from  far  and  near. 

Reynal,  who  imitated  the  Indians  in  their  habits  as  well  as 
the  worst  features  of  their  character,  had  killed  buffalo  enough 
to  make  a  lodge  for  himself  and  his  squaw,  and  now  he  was 
eager  to  get  the  poles  necessary  to  complete  it.  He  asked  me 
to  let  Raymond  go  with  him,  and  assist  in  the  work.  I  as- 
sented, and  the  two  men  immediately  entered  the  thickest  part 
of  the  wood.  Having  left  my  horse  in  Raymond's  keeping,  I 
began  to  climb  the  mountain.  I  was  weak  and  weary,  and 
made  slow  progress,  often  pausing  to  rest,  but  after  an  hour 
had  elapsed,  I  gained  a  height,  whence  the  little  valley  out  of 
which  I  had  climbed  seemed  like  a  deep,  dark  gulf,  though  the 
inaccessible  peak  of  the  mountain  was  still  towering  to  a  much 


THE    BLACK    HILLS.  295 

greater  distance  above.  Objects  familiar  from  childhood  sur- 
rounded me  ;  crags  and  rocks,  a  black  and  sullen  brook  that 
gurgled  with  a  hollow  voice  deep  among  the  crevices,  a  wood 
of  mossy  distorted  trees  and  prostrate  trunks  flung  down  by  age 
and  storms,  scattered  among  the  rocks,  or  damming  the  foaming 
waters  of  the  little  brook.  The  objects  were  the  same,  yet 
they  were  thrown  into  a  wilder  and  more  startling  scene,  for  the 
black  crags  and  the  savage  trees  assumed  a  grim  and  theaten- 
ing  aspect,  and  close  across  the  valley  the  opposing  mountain 
confronted  me,  rising  from  the  gulf  for  thousands  of  feet,  with  its 
bare  pinnacles  and  its  ragged  covering  of  pines.  Yet  the  scene 
was  not  without  its  milder  features.  As  I  ascended,  I  found 
frequent  little  grassy  terraces,  and  there  was  one  of  these  close 
at  hand,  across  which  the  brook  was  stealing,  h^neath  the  shade 
of  scattered  trees  that  seemed  artificially  planted.  Here  I 
made  a  welcome  discovery,  no  other  than  a  bed  of  strawber- 
ries,  with  their  white  flowers  and  their  red  fruit,  close  nestled 
among  the  grass  by  the  side  of  the  brook,  and  I  sat  down  by 
them,  hailing  them  as  old  acquaintances  ;  for  among  those 
lonely  and  perilous  mountains,  they  awakened  delicious  associa- 
tions of  the  gardens  and  peaceful  homes  of  far-distant  New- 
England. 

Yet  wild  as  they  were,  these  mountains  were  thickly  peo- 
pled. As  I  climbed  farther,  I  found  the  broad'  dusty  paths 
made  by  the  elk,  as  they  filed  across  the  mountain  side.  The 
grass  on  all  the  terraces  was  trampled  down  by  deer ;  there 
were  numerous  tracks  of  wolves,  and  in  some  of  the  rougher 
and  more  precipitous  parts  of  the  ascent,  I  found  foot-prints  dif- 
ferent from  any  that  I  had  ever  seen,  anc  which  I  took  to  be 


20 


296  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    C  REG  ON    TRAIL. 

those  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  sheep.  I  sat  clown  upon  a  rock ; 
there  was  a  perfect  stiUness.  No  wind  was  stirring,  and  not 
even  an  insect  could  be  heard.  I  recollected  the  danger  of 
becoming  lost  in  such  a  place,  and  therefore  I  fixed  my  eye 
upon  one  of  the  tallest  pinnacles  of  the  opposite  mountain.  It 
rose  sheer  upright  from  the  woods  below,  and  by  an  extraordi- 
nary freak  of  nature,  sustained  aloft  on  its  very  summit  a  large 
loose  rock.  Such  a  landmark  could  never  be  mistaken,  and  feel- 
ing once  more  secure,  I  began  again  to  move  forward.  A  white 
wolf  jumped  up  from  among  some  bushes,  and  leaped  clumsily 
away  ;  but  he  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  turned  back  his  keen 
eye  and  his  grim  bristling  muzzle.  I  longed  to  take  his  scalp 
find  carry  it  back  with  me,  as  an  appropriate  trophy  of  the 
Black  Hills,  but  before  I  could  fire,  he  was  gone  among  the 
rocks.  Soon  after  I  heard  a  rustling  sound,  with  a  cracking  of 
twigs  at  a  little  distance,  and  saw  moving  above  the  tall  bushes 
the  branching  antlers  of  an  elk.  I  was  in  the  midst  of  a  hunt- 
er's paradise. 

Such  are  the  Black  Hills,  as  I  found  them  in  July  ;  but 
they  wear  a  different  garb  when  winter  sets  in,  when  the  broad 
boughs  of  the  fir  tree  are  bent  to  the  ground  by  the  load  of 
snow,  and  the  dark  mountains  are  whitened  with  it.  At  that 
season  the  mountain-trappers,  returned  from  their  autumn  ex- 
peditions, often  build  their  rude  cabins  in  the  midst  of  these 
.solitudes,  and  live  in  abundance  and  luxury  on  the  game  that 
harbors  there.  I  have  heard  them  relate,  how  with  their  tawny 
mistresses,  and  perhaps  a  few  young  Indian  companions,  they 
have  spent  months  in  total  seclusion.  They  W'ould  dig  pitfalls, 
and  set  traps  for  the  white  wolves,  the  sables,  and  the  martens, 


THE    BLACK   HILLS.  297 

and  though  through  the  whole  night  the  awful  chorus  of  the 
wolves  would  resound  from  the  frozen  mountains  around  them, 
yet  within  their  massive  walls  of  logs  they  would  lie  in  careless 
ease  and  comfort  before  the  blazing  fire,  and  in  the  morning 
shoot  the  elk  and  the  deer  from  their  very  door. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A     MOUNTAIN    HUNT. 

"  Come,  shall  we  go  and  kill  us  venison  ? 
And  yet  it  irlis  me,  the  poor  dappled  fools, 
Being  native  burghere  of  this  desert  city, 
Should  in  their  own  confines,  with  forked  heads, 
Have  their  round  haunches  gored." 

A8  You  LiKB  It. 

The  camp  was  full  of  the  newly-cut  lodge-pole.s ;  some, 
already  prepared,  were  stacked  together,  white  and  glistening, 
to  dry  and  harden  in  the  sun ;  others  were  lying  on  the  ground, 
and  the  squaws,  the  boys,  and  even  some  of  the  warriors,  were 
busily  at  work  peeling  off  the  bark  and  paring  them  with  their 
knives  to  the  proper  dimensions.     Most  of  the  hides  obtained  i 

at  the  last  camp  were  dressed  and  scraped  thin  enough  for  use, 
and  many  of  the  squaws  were  engaged  in  fitting  them  together 
and  sewing  them  with  sinews,  to  form  the  coverings  for  the 
lodges.  Men  were  wandering  among  the  bushes  that  lined  the 
brook  along  the  margin  of  the  camp,  cutting  sticks  of  red 
willow,  or  shongsasha,  the  bark  of  which,  mixed  with  tobacco, 
they  use  for  smoking.  Reynal's^squaw  was  hard  at  work  with 
her  awl  and   buffalo  sinews  upon  her  lodge,  while  her  pro- 


A   MOUNTAIN    HUNT.  299 

prietor,  having  just  finished  an  enormous  breakfast  of  meat, 
was  smoking  a  social  pipe  along  with  Raymond  and  myself. 
He  proposed  at  length  that  we  should  go  out  on  a  hunt.  '  Go 
to  the  Big  Crow's  lodge,'  said  he,  '  and  get  your  rifle.  I'll  bet 
the  gray  Wyandot  pony  against  your  mare  that  we  start  an  elk 
or  a  black-tailed  deer,  or  likely  as  not,  a  big-horn,  before  we 
are  two  miles  out  of  camp.  I'll  take  my  squaw's  old  yellow 
horse  ;  you  cr.n't  whip  her  more  than  four  miles  an  hour,  but 
she  is  as  good  for  the  mountains  as  a  mule.' 

I  mounted  the  black  mule  which  Raymond  usually  rode. 
She  was  a  very  fine  and  powerful  animal,  gentle  and  manage- 
able enough  by  nature  ;  but  of  late  her  temper  had  been  soured 
by  misfortune.  About  a  week  before,  I  had  chanced  to  offend 
some  one  of  the  Indians,  who  out  of  revenge  went  secretly  into 
the  meadow  and  gave  her  a  severe  stab  in  the  haunch  with  his 
knife.  The  wound,  though  partially  healed,  still  galled  her 
extremely,  and  made  her  even  more  perverse  and  obstinate 
than  the  rest  of  her  species. 

The  morning  was  a  glorious  one,  and  I  was  in  better  health 
than  I  had  been  at  any  time  for  the  last  two  months.  Though 
a  strong  frame  and  well  compacted  sinews  had  borne  me 
through  hitherto,  it  was  long  since  I  had  been  in  a  condition  to 
feel  the  exhilaration  of  the  fresh  mountain-wind  and  the  gay 
sunshine  that  brightened  the  crags  and  trees.  We  left  the 
little  valley  and  ascended  a  rocky  hollow  in  the  mountain. 
Very  soon  we  were  out  of  sight  of  the  camp,  and  of  every 
living  thing,  man,  beast,  bird,  or  insect.  I  had  never  before, 
except  on  foot,  psssed  over  such  execrable  ground,  and  I  desire 
never  to  repeat  the  experiment.  The  black  mule  grew  indig- 
nant, and  even  the  redoubtable  yellow   horse  stumbled  every 


300  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

moment,  and  kept  groaning  to  himself  as  he  cut  his  feet  and 
legs  among  the  sharp  rocks. 

It  was  a  scene  of  silence  and  desolation.  Little  was  visible 
except  beetling  crags  and  the  bare  shingly  sides  of  the  moun- 
tains, relieved  by  scarcely  a  trace  of  vegetation.  At  length, 
however,  we  came  upon  a  forest  tract,  and  had  no  sooner  done 
so  than  we  heartily  wished  ourselves  back  among  tlie  rocks 
again  ;  for  we  were  on  a  steep  descent,  among  trees  so  thick 
that  we  could  see  scarcely  a  rod  in  any  direction. 

If  one  is  anxious  to  place  himself  in  a  situation  where  the 
hazardous  and  the  ludicrous  are  combined  in  about  equal  pro- 
portions, let  him  get  upon  a  vicious  mule,  with  a  snaffle  bit,  and 
try  to  drive  her  through  the  woods  down  a  slope  of  forty-five 
degrees.  Let  him  have  a  long  rifle,  a  buckskin  frock  with 
long  fringes,  and  a  head  of  long  hair.  These  latter  appendages 
will  be  caught  every  moment  and  twitched  away  in  small 
portions  by  the  twigs,  which  will  also  whip  him  smartly  across 
the  face,  while  the  large  branches  above  thump  him  on  the 
head.  His  mule,  if  she  be  a  true  one,  will  alternately  stop 
short  and  dive  violently  forward,  and  his  positions  upon  her 
back  will  be  somewhat  diversified  and  extraordinary.  At  one 
time  he  will  clasp  her  affectionately,  to  avoid  the  blow  of  a 
bough  overhead  ;  at  another,  he  will  throw  himself  back  and 
fling  his  knee  forward  against  the  side  of  her  neck,  to  keep  it 
from  being  crushed  between  the  rough  bark  of  a  tree  and  the 
equally  unyielding  ribs  of  the  animal  herself.  Reynal  was 
cursing  incessantly  during  the  whole  way  down.  Neither  of 
us  had  the  remotest  idea  where  we  were  going ;  and  though  I 
have  seen  rough  riding,  I  shall  always  retain  an  evil  recollection 
of  that  five  minutes  scramble. 


A   MOUNTAIN    HUNT.  301 

At  last  we  left  our  troubles  behind  us,  emerging  into  the 
channel  of  a  brook  that  circled  along  the  foot  of  the  descent ; 
and  here,  turning  joyfully  Jo  the  left,  we  rode  in  luxury  and 
ease  over  the  white  pebbles  and  the  rippling  water,  shaded  from 
the  glaring  sun  by  an  overarching  green  transparency.  These 
halcyon  moments  were  of  short  duration.  The  friendly  brook, 
tui'ning  sharply  to  one  side,  went  brawling  and  foaming  down 
the  rocky  hill  into  an  abyss,  which,  as  far  as  we  could  discern, 
had  no  bottom  ;  so  once  more  we  betook  ourselves  to  the  detested 
woods.  When  next  we  came  forth  from  their  dancing  shadow 
and  sunlight,  we  found  ourselves  standing  in  the  broad  glare 
of  .day,  on  a  high  jutting  point  of  the  mountain.  Before  us 
stretched  a  long,  wide,  desert  valley,  winding  away  far  amid 
the  mountains.  No  civilized  eye  but  mine  had  ever  looked 
upon  that  virgin  Avaste.  Reynal  was  gazing  intently  ;  he  began 
to  speak   at  last  : 

'  Many  a  time,  when  1  was  with  the  Indians,  I  have  been 
hunting  for  gold  all  through  the  Black  Hills.  There's  plenty 
of  it  here ;  you  may  be  certain  of  that.  I  have  dreamed 
about  it  fifty  times,  and  I  never  dreamed  yet  but  what  it  came 
out  true.  Look  over  yonder  at  those  black  rocks  piled  up 
against  that  other  h'i<r  rock.     Don't  it  look  as  if  there  mifjht 

Do  O 

be  something  there  ?  It  won't  do  for  a  white  man  to  be  rum- 
maging too  much  about  these  mountains ;  the  Indians  say  they 
are  full  of  bad  spirits ;  and  I  believe  myself  that  it's  no  good 
luck  to  be  hunting  about  here  after  gold.  Well,  for  all  that, 
I  would  like  to  have  one  of  these  fellows  up  here,  from  down 
below,  to  go  about  with  his  witch-hazel  rod,  and  I'll  guarantee 
that  it  would  not  be  long  before  he  would  light  on  a  gcid-mine. 
Never  mind  ;  we'll  let  the  gold  alone  for  to-day.     Look  at 


302  THK    CALIFOKNIA    AND    OKKGON    TRAIL. 

those  trees  down  below  us  in  the  hollow  ;   we'll  go  down  there, 
£ind  1  reckon  we'll  get  a  black-tailed  deer.' 

But  Reynal's  predictions  were  not  verified.  We  passed 
mountain  after  mountain,  and  valley  after  valley  ;  we  explored 
deep  ravines;  yet  still,  to  my  companion's  vexation  and  evi- 
dent surprise,  no  game  could  be  found.  So,  in  the  absence  of 
better,  we  resolved  to  go  out  on  th«  plains  and  look  for  an  ante- 
lope. With  this  view  we  began  to  pass  down  a  narrow  valley, 
the  bottom  of  which  was  covered  with  the  stiff  wild-sage  bushes 
and  marked  with  deep  paths,  made  by  the  buffalo,  who,  for 
some  inexplicable  reason,  are  accustomed  to  penetrate,  in  their 
long  grave  processions,  deep  among  the  gorges  of  these  sterile 
mountains. 

Reynal's  eye  was  ranging  incessantly  among  the  rocks  and 
along  the  edges  of  the  black  precipices,  in  hopes  of  discovering 
the  mountain-sheep  peering  down  upon  us  in  fancied  security 
from  that  giddy  elevation.  Nothing  was  visible  for  some  time. 
At  length  we  both  detected  something  in  motion  near  the  foot 
of  one  of  the  mountains,  and  in  a  moment  afterward  a  black- 
tailed  deer,  with  his  spreading  antlers,  stood  gazing  at  us  from 
the  top  of  a  rock,  and  then,  slowly  turning  away,  disappeared 
behind  it.  In  an  instant  Reynal  was  out  of  his  saddle,  and 
running  toward  the  spot.  I,  being  too  weak  to  follow,  sat 
holding  his  horse  and  waiting  the  result.  I  lost  sight  of  him, 
then  heard  the  report  of  his  rifle  deadened  among  the  rocks, 
and  finally  saw  him  reappear,  with  a  surly  look,  that  plainly 
betrayed  his  ill  success.  Again  we  moved  forward  down  the 
long  valley,  when  soon  after  we  came  full  upon  what  seemed  a 
wide  and  very  shallow  ditch,  incrusted  at  the  bottom  with 
white  clay,  dried  and  cracked  in  the  sun.     Under  this  fair 


A  mou-n':ain  hunt.  303 

outside,  Reynal's  eye  detected  the  signs  of  lurking  mischief. 
He  called  me^to  stop,  and  then  alighting,  picked  up  a  stone 
and  threw  it  into  the  ditch.  To  my  utter  amazement  it  fell 
with  a  dull  splash,  breaking  at  once  through  the  thin  crust, 
and  spattering  round  the  hole  a  yellowish  creamy  fluid,  into 
which  it  sank  and  disappeared.  A  stick,  five  or  six  feet  long, 
lay  on  the  ground,  and  with  this  we  sounded  the  insidious  abyss 
close  to  its  edge.  It  was  just  possible  to  touch  the  bottom. 
Places  like  this  are  numerous  among  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
The  buffalo,  in  his  blind  and  heedless  walk,  often  plunges  into 
them  unawares.  Down  he  sinks;  one  snort  of  terror,  one  con- 
vulsive struggle,  and  the  slime  calmly  flows  above  his  shaggy 
head,  the  languid  undulations  of  its  sleek  and  placid  surface 
alone  betraying  how  the  powerful  monster  writhes  in  his  death- 
throes  below. 

We  found  after  some  trouble  a  point  where  we  could  pass 
the  abyss,  and  now  the  valley  began  to  open  upon  the  plains 
which  spread  to  the  horizon  before  us.  On  one  of  their  distant 
swells  we  discerned  three  or  four  black  specks,  which  Reynal 
pronounced  to  be  buffalo. 

'  Come,'  said  he,  '  we  must  get  one  of  them.  My  squaw 
wants  more  sinews  to  finish  her  lodge  with,  and  I  want  some 
glue  myself.' 

fie  immediately  put  the  yellow  horse  to  such  a  gallop  as  he 
was  capable  of  executing,  while  I  set  spurs  to  the  mule,  who 
soon  far  outrun  her  plebeian  rival.  When  we  had  galloped  a 
mile  or  more,  a  large  rabbit,  by  ill-luck,  sprang  up  just  under 
the  feet  of  the  mule,  who  bounded  violently  aside  in  full  career. 
Weakened  as  I  was,  I  was  flung  forcibly  to  the  ground,  and 
my  rifle  falling  close  to  my  head,  went  off  with  the  shock.     Its 


304         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

sharp,  spiteful  report  rang  for  some  moments  in  my  ear.  Be- 
ing slightly  stunned,  I  lay  for  an  instant  motionless,  and  Rey- 
nal,  supposing  me  to  be  shot,  rode  up  and  began  to  curse 
the  mule.  Soon  recovering  myself,  I  arose,  picked  up  the 
rifle  and  anxiously  examined  it.  It  was  badly  injured.  The 
stock  was  cracked,  and  the  main  screw  broken,  so  that  the 
lock  had  to  be  tied  in  its  place  with  a  string  ;  yet  happily  it 
was  not  rendered  totally  unserviceable.  I  wiped  it  out,  re- 
loaded it,  and  handing  it  to  Reynal,  who  meanwhile  hud  caught 
the  mule  and  led  her  up  to  me,  I  mounted  again.  No  sooner 
had  I  done  so,  than  the  brute  began  to  rear  and  plunge  with 
extreme  violence ;  but  being  now  well  prepared  for  her,  and 
free  from  incumbrance,  I  soon  reduced  her  to  submission. 
Then  taking  the  rifle  again  from  Reynal,  we  galloped  forward 
as  before. 

We  were  now  free  of  the  mountains  and  riding  far  out  on 
the  broad  prairie.  The  buffalo  were  still  some  two  miles  in 
advance  of  us.  When  we  came  near  them,  we  stopped  where 
a  gentle  swell  of  the  plain  concealed  us  from  their  view,  and 
while  I  held  his  horse  Reynal  ran  forward  with  his  rifle,  till  I 
lost  sight  of  him  beyond  the  rising  ground.  A  few  minutes 
elapsed  :  I  heard  the  report  of  his  piece,  and  saw  the  buffalo 
running  away  at  full  speed  on  the  right,  and  immediately  after, 
the  hunter  himself,  unsuccessful  as  before,  came  up  and  mount- 
ed his  horse  in  excessive  ill-humor.  He  cursed  the  Black 
Hills  and  the  buffalo,  swore  that  he  was  a  good  hunter,  whicli 
indeed  was  true,  and  that  he  had  never  been  out  before  among 
those  mountains  without  killing  two  or  three  deer  at  least. 

We  now  turned  toward  the  distant  encampment.  As  we 
rode   along,    antelope   in    considerable   numbers  were   flying 


A   MOUNTAIN   HUNT.  805 

lightly  in  all  directions  over  the  plain,  but  not  one  of  them 
would  stand  and  be  shot  at.  When  we  reached  the  foot  of  the 
mountain-ridge  that  lay  between  us  and  the  village,  we  were 
too  impatient  to  take  the  smooth  and  circuitous  route ;  so  turn- 
ing short  to  the  left,  we  drove  our  wearied  animals  directly 
upward  among  the  rocks.  Still  more  antelope  were  leaping 
about  among  these  flinty  hill-sides.  Each  of  us  shot  at  one, 
though  from  a  great  distance,  and  each  missed  his  mark.  At 
length  we  reached  the  summit  of  the  last  ridge.  Looking 
down,  we  saw  the  bustling  camp  in  the  valley  at  our  feet,  and 
ingloriously  descended  to  it.  As  we  rode  among  the  lodges, 
the  Indians  looked  in  vain  for  the  fresh  meat  that  should  have 
hung  behind  our  saddles,  and  the  squaws  uttered  various  sup- 
pressed ejaculations,  to  the  great  indignation  of  Reynal.  Our 
mortification  was  increased  when  we  rode  up  to  his  lodge. 
Here  we  saw  his  young  Indian  relative,  the  Hail-Storm,  his 
light  graceful  figure  reclining  on  the  ground  in  an  easy  atti- 
tude, while  with  his  friend  the  Rabbit,  who  sat  by  his  side,  he 
was  making  an  abundant  meal  from  a  wooden  bowl  of  tvasna, 
which  the  squaw  had  placed  between  them.  Near  him  lay  the 
fresh  skin  of  a  female  elk,  which  he  had  just  killed  among  the 
mountains,  only  a  mile  or  two  from  the  camp.  No  doubt  the 
boy's  heart  was  elated  with  triumph,  but  he  betrayed  no  sign 
of  it.  He  even  seemed  totally  unconscious  of  our  approach, 
and  his  handsome  face  had  all  the  tranquillity  of  Indian  self- 
control  ;  a  self-control  which  prevents  the  exhibition  of  emotion 
without  restraining  the  emotion  itself.  It  was  about  two  months 
since  I  had  known  the  Hail-Storm,  and  within  that  time  his 
character  had  remarkably  developed.  When  I  first  saw  him, 
he  was  just  emerging  from  the  habits  and  feelings  of  the  boy 


306  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

into  the  ambition  of  the  hunter  and  warrior.  He  had  lately 
killed  his  first  deer,  and  this  had  excited  his  aspirations  after 
distinction.  Since  that  time  he  had  been  continually  in  search 
of  game,  and  no  young  hunter  in  the  village  had  been  so  active 
or  so  fortunate  as  he.  It  will  perhaps  be  remembered  how 
fearlessly  he  attacked  the  buffalo- bull,  as  we  were  moving 
toward  our  camp  at  the  Medicine  Bow  Mountain.  All  this 
success  had  produced  a  marked  change  in  his  character.  As 
I  first  remembered  him  he  always  shunned  the  society  of  the 
young  squaws,  and  was  extremely  bashful  and  sheepish  in  their 
presence  ;  but  now,  in  the  confidence  of  his  own  reputation,  he 
began  to  assume  the  airs  and  the  arts  of  a  man  of  gallantry. 
He  wore  his  red  blanket  dashingly  over  his  left  shoulder, 
painted  his  cheeks  every  day  with  vermilion,  and  hung  pen- 
dants of  shells  in  his  ears.  If  I  observed  aright,  he  met  with 
very  good  success  in  his  new  pursuits  ;  still  the  Hail-Storm  had 
much  to  accomplish  before  he  attained  the  full  standing  of  a 
warrior.  Gallantly  as  he  began  to  bear  himself  among  the 
women  and  girls,  he  still  was  timid  and  abashed  in  the  pre- 
sence  of  the  chiefs  and  old  men ;  for  he  had  never  yet  killed  a 
man,  or  stricken  the  dead  body  of  an  enemy  in  battle.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  the  handsome  smooth-faced  boy  burned  with  a 
keen  desire  to  flesh  his  maiden  scalping-knife,  and  I  would  not 
have  encamped  alone  with  him  without  watching  his  move- 
ments with  a  distrustful  eye. 

His  elder  brother,  the  Horse,  was  of  a  different  character. 
He  was  nothing  but  a  lazy  dandy.  He  knew  very  well  how 
to  hunt,  but  preferred  to  live  by  the  hunting  of  others.  He 
had  no  appetite  for  distinction,  and  the  Hail-Storm,  though  a  few 
years  younger  tha-    he,  already  surpassed  him  in  reputation. 


A    MOUNTAIN    HUNT.  30t 

He  had  a  dark  and  ugly  face,  and  he  passed  a  great  part  of  his 
time  in  adorning  it  with  vermilion,  and  contemplating  it  by- 
means  of  a  little  pocket  looking-glass  which  I  gave  him.  As 
for  the  rest  of  the  day,  he  divided  it  between  eating  and  sleep- 
ing, and  sitting  in  the  sun  on  the  outside  of  a  lodge.  Here  he 
would  remain  for  hour  after  hour,  arrayed  in  all  his  finery, 
with  an  old  dragoon's  sword  in  his  hand,  and  evidently  flattering 
himself  that  he  was  the  centre  of  attraction  to  the  eyes  of  the 
surrounding  squaws.  Yet  he  sat  looking  straight  forward  with 
a  face  of  the  utmost  gravity,  as  if  wrapped  in  profound  medi- 
tation, and  it  was  only  by  the  occasional  sidelong  glances 
which  he  shot  at  his  supposed  admirers  that  one  could  detect 
the  true  course  of  his  thoughts. 

Both  he  and  his  brother  may  represent  a  class  in  the  Indian 
community  :  neither  should  the  Hail-Storm's  friend,  the  Rab- 
bit, be  passed  by  without  notice.  The  Hail-Storm  and  he 
were  inseparable  :  they  ate,  slept,  and  hunted  together,  and 
shared  with  one  another  almost  all  that  they  possessed.  If 
there  be  any  thing  that  deserves  to  be  called  romantic  in 
the  Indian  character,  it  is  to  be  sought  for  in  friendships  such 
as  this,  which  are  quite  common  among  many  of  the  .prairie 
tribes. 

Slowly,  hour  after  hour,  that  weary  afternoon  dragged 
away.  I  lay  in  Reynal's  lodge,  overcome  by  the  listless  torpor 
that  pervaded  the  whole  encampment.  The  day's  work  was 
finished,  or  if  it  were  not,  the  inhabitants  had  resolved  not  to 
finish  it  at  all,  and  all  were  dozing  quietly  within  the  shelter 
of  the  lodges.  A  profound  lethargy,  the  very  spirit  of  indo- 
lence, seemed  to  have  sunk  upon  the  village.  Now  and  then 
I  could  hear  the  low  laughter  of  some  girl  from  within  a  neigh. 


308  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OIIEGON    TRAIL. 

boring  lodge,  or  the  small  shrill  voices  of  a  few  restless  chil- 
dren, who  alone  were  moving  in  the  deserted  area.  The  spirit 
of  the  place  infected  me  ;  I  could  not  even  think  consecutively  ; 
I  was  fit  on.y  for  musing  and  reverie,  when  at  last,  like  the 
rest,  I  fell  asleep. 

When  evening  came,  and  the  fires  were  lighted  round  the 
lodges,  a  select  family  circle  convened  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Reynal's  donncil.  It  was  composed  entirely  of  his  squaw's 
relatives,  a  mean  and  ignoble  clan,  among  whom  none  but  the 
Hail-Storm  held  forth  any  promise  of  future  distinction.  Even 
his  prospects  were  rendered  not  a  little  dubious  by  the  charac- 
ter of  the  family,  less  however  from  any  principle  of  aristo- 
cratic distinction  than  from  the  want  of  powerful  supporters 
to  assist  him  in  his  undertakings,  and  help  to  avenge  his  quar- 
rels. Raymond  and  I  sat  down  along  with  them.  There 
were  eight  or  ten  men  gathered  around  the  fire,  together  with 
about  as  many  women,  old  and  young,  some  of  whom  were 
tolerably  good-looking.  As  the  pipe  passed  round  among  the 
men,  a  lively  conversation  went  forward,  more  merry  than  deli- 
cate, and  at  length  two  or  three  of  the  elder  women  (for  the 
girls  were  somewhat  diffident  and  bashful)  began  to  assail  Ray- 
mond with  various  pungent  witticisms.  Some  of  the  men  took 
part,  and  an  old  squaw  concluded  by  bestowing  on  him  a  ludi- 
crous nickname,  at  which  a  general  laugh  followed  at  his  ex- 
pense. Raymond  grinned  and  giggled,  and  made  several  futile 
attempts  at  repartee.  Knowing  the  impolicy  and  even  danger 
of  suffering  myself  to  be  placed  in  a  ludicrous  light  among  the 
Indians,  I  maintained  a  rigid  inflexible  countenance,  and  wholly 
escaped  their  sallies. 

In  the  morning  I  foun:   to  my  great  disgust,  that  the  camp 


A   MOUNTAIN    HUNT.  309 

was  to  retain  its  position  for  anotlier  day.  I  dreaded  its  lan- 
guor and  monotony,  and  to  escape  it,  I  set  out  to  explore  the 
surrounding  mountains.  I  was  accompanied  by  a  faithful 
friend,  my  rifle,  the  only  friend  indeed  on  whose  prompt  assist- 
ance in  time  of  trouble  I  could  implicitly  rely.  Most  of  the 
Indians  in  the  village,  it  is  true,  professed  good  will  towards  the 
whites,  but  the  experience  of  others  and  my  own  observation 
had  taught  me  the  extrouane  folly  of  confidence,  and  the  utter 
impossibility  of  foreseeing  to  what  sudden  acts  the  strange  un- 
bridled impulses  of  an  Indian  may  urge  him.  When  among 
tliis  people  danger  is  never  so  near  as  when  you  are  unprepared 
for  it,  never  so  remote  as  when  you  are  armed  and  on  the  alert 
to  meet  it  at  any  moment.  Nothing  offers  so  strong  a  tempta- 
tion to  their  ferocious  instincts  as  the  appearance  of  timidity, 
weakness,  or  security. 

Many  deep  and  gloomy  gorges,  choked  with  trees  and 
bushes,  opened  from  the  sides  of  the  hills,  which  were  shaggy 
with  forests  wherever  the  rocks  permitted  vegetation  to  spring. 
A  great  number  of  Indians  were  stalking  along  the  edges  of 
the  woods,  and  boys  were  whooping  and  laughing  on  the  moun- 
tain-sides, practising  eye  and  hand,  and  indulging  their  destruc- 
tive propensities  by  following  birds  and  small  animals  and  kill- 
ing them  with  their  little  bows  and  arrows.  There  was  one 
glen,  stretching  up  between  steep  cliffs  far  into  the  bosom  of  the 
mountain.  I  began  to  ascend  along  its  bottom,  pushing  my 
way  onward  among  the  rocks,  trees,  and  bushes  that  obstructed 
it.  A  slender  thread  of  water  trickled  along  its  centre,  which 
since  issuing  from  the  heart  of  its  native  rock  could  scarcely 
have  been  warmed  or  gladdened  by  a  ray  of  sunshine.  After 
advancuig  for  some  time,  I  conceived  myself  to  be  entirely 


21" 


810  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

alone  ;  but  coming  to  a  part  of  the  glen  in  a  great  measura 
free  of  trees  and  undei"growth,  I  saw  at  some  distance  the  black 
head  and  red  shoulders  of  an  Indian  among  the  bushes  above. 
The  reader  need  not  prepare  himself  for  a  startling  adventure, 
for  I  liave  none  to  relate.  The  head  and  shoulders  belonged  to 
Mene-Seela,  my  best  friend  in  the  village.  As  I  had  approached 
noiselessly  with  my  moccasoned  feet,  the  old  man  was  quite 
unconscious  of  my  presence ;  and  turning  to  a  point  where  I 
could  gain  an  unobstructed  view  of  him,  I  saw  him  seated 
alone,  immovable  as  a  statue,  among  the  rocks  and  trees.  His 
face  "Was  turned  upward,  and  his  eyes  seemed  riveted  on  a 
pine-tree  springing  from  a  cleft  in  the  precipice  above.  The 
crest  of  the  pine  was  swaying  to  and  fro  in  the  wind,  and  its 
long  limbs  waved  slowly  up  and  down,  as  if  the  tree  liad  life. 
Looking  for  a  while  at  the  old  man,  I  was  satisfied  that  he  was 
engaged  in  an  act  of  worship,  or  prayer,  or  communion  of 
some  kind  with  a  supernatural  being.  I  longed  to  penetrate 
his  thoughts,  but  I  could  do  nothing  more  than  conjecture 
and  speculate.  1  knew  that  though  the  intellect  of  an  Indian 
can  embrace  the  idea  of  an  all-wise,  all-powerful  Spirit,  the 
supreme  Ruler  of  the  universe,  yet  his  mind  will  not  always 
ascend  into  communion  with  a  being  that  seems  to  him  so  vast, 
remote,  and  incomprehensible  ;  and  when  danger  threatens, 
when  his  hopes  are  broken,  when  the  black  wing  of  sorrow 
overshadows  him,  he  is  prone  to  turn  for  relief  to  some  inferior 
agency,  less  removed  from  the  ordinary  scope  of  his  faculties. 
He  has  a  guardian  spirit,  on  whom  he  relies  for  succor  and 
guidance.  To  him  all  nature  is  instinct  with  mystic  influence. 
Among  those  mountains  not  a  wild  beast  was  prowling,  a  bird 
singing,  or  a  leaf  fluttering,  that  might  not  tend   to  direct  hia 


A    MOUNTAIN    HUNT.  311 

destiny,  or  give  warning  of  wiiat  was  in  store  for  him  ;  and  he 
watches  the  world  of  nature  around  him  as  the  astrologer 
watches  the  stars.  So  closely  is  he  linked  with  it,  that  his 
guardian-spirit,  no  unsubstantial  creation  of  the  fancy,  is  usually 
embodied  in  the  form  of  some  living  thing ;  a  bear,  a  wolf,  an 
eagle,  or  a  serpent;  and  Mene-Seela,  as  he  gazed  intently  on 
the  old  pine-tree,  might  believe  it  to  inshrine  the  fancied  guide 
and  protector  of  his  life. 

Whatever  was  passing  in  the  mind  of  the  old  man,  it  was 
no  part  of  sense  or  of  delicacy  to  disturb  him.  Silently  retra- 
cing my  footsteps,  I  descended  the  glen  until  I  came  to  a  point 
where  I  could  climb  the  steep  precipices  that  shut  it  in,  and 
gain  the  side  of  the  mountain.  Looking  up,  I  saw  a  tall  peak 
rising  among  the  woods.  Something  impelled  me  to  climb  ;  I 
had  not  felt  for  many  a  day  such  strength  and  elasticity  of 
limb.  An  hour  and  a  half  of  slow  and  often  intermitted  labor 
brought  me  to  the  very  summit ;  and  emerging  from  the  dark 
shadows  of  the  rocks  and  pines,  I  stepped  forth  into  the  light, 
and  walking  along  the  sunny  verge  of  a  precipice,  seated  my- 
self on  its  extreme  point.  Looking  between  the  mountain-peaks 
to  the  westward,  the  pale  blue  prairie  was  stretching  to  the 
farthest  horizon,  like  a  serene  and  tranquil  ocean.  The  sur- 
rounding mountains  were  in  themselves  sufficiently  striking  and 
impressive,  but  this  contrast  gave  redoubled  effect  to  their  stern 
features, 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

PASSAG3     OF     THE     BIOTJNTAINS. 

*'  Dear  Nature  is  the  kindest  mother  still, 

Though  always  changing,  in  her  aspect  mild ; 

From  her  bare  bosom  let  me  take  my  fill, 

Her  never  weaned,  though  not  her  favored  child. 

O,  she  is  fairest  in  her  features  wild. 

When  nothing  pohslied  dares  pollute  her  path ; 

On  me  by  day  and  night  she  ever  smiled, 

Though  I  have  marlied  her  where  none  other  hath. 
And  sought  her  more  and  more,  and  loved  her  best  in  wrath." 

Childe  Harold. 

When  I  took  leave  of  Shaw  at  La  Bonte's  camp,  I  promisea 
ihat  I  would  meet  him  at  Fort  Laramie  on  the  first  of  August. 
That  day,  according  to  my  reckoning,  was  now  close  at  hand. 
It  was  impossible,  at  best,  to  fulfil  my  engagement  exactly,  and 
my  meeting  with  him  must  have  been  postponed  until  many 
days  after  the  appointed  time,  had  not  the  plans  of  the  Indians 
very  well  coincided  with  my  own.  They,  too,  intended  to  pass 
the  mountains  and  move  toward  the  fort.  To  do  so  at  this 
point  was  impossible,  because  there  was  no  opening ;  and  in 
order  to  find  a  passage  we  were  obliged  to  go  twelve  or  fourteen 
miles  southward.     Late  in  the  afternoon  the  camp  got  in  motion 


PASSAGE    OF    THE    MOUNTAINS.  313 

defiling  back  through  the  mountains  along  the  same  narrow 
passage  by  which  they  had  entered.  I  rode  in  company  with 
three  or  four  young  Indians  at  the  rear,  and  the  moving  swarm 
stretched  before  me,  in  the  ruddy  light  ©f  sunset,  or  in  the  deep 
shadow  of  the  mountains,  far  beyond  my  sight.  It  was  an  ill- 
omened  spot  they  chose  to  encamp  upon.  When  they  were 
^here  just  a  year  before,  a  war-party  of  ten  men,  led  by  the 
Whirlwind's  son,  had  gone  out  against  the  enemy,  and  not  one 
had  ever  returned.  This  was  the  immediate  cause  of  this 
season's  warlike  preparations.  I  was  not  a  little  astonished, 
when  I  came  to  the  camp,  at  the  confusion  of  horrible  sounds 
with  which  it  was  filled ;  howls,  shrieks,  and  wailings  were 
heard  from  all  the  women  present,  many  of  whom,  not  content 
with  this  exhibition  of  grief  for  the  loss  of  their  friends  and 
relatives,  were  gashing  their  legs  deeply  with  knives.  A  war- 
rior in  the  village,  who  had  lost  a  brother  in  the  expedition, 
chose  another  mode  of  displaying  his  sorrow.  The  Indians, 
who  though  often  rapacious,  are  utterly  devoid  of  avarice,  are 
accustomed  in  times  of  mourning,  or  on  other  solemn  occasions, 
to  give  away  the  whole  of  their  possessions,  and  reduce  them- 
selves to  nakedness  and  want.  The  warrior  in  question  led  his 
two  best  horses  into  the  centre  of  the  village,  and  gave  them 
away  to  his  friends ;  upon  which,  songs  and  acclamations  in 
praise  of  his  generosity  mingled  with  the  cries  of  the  women. 

On  the  next  morning  we  entered  once  more  among  the 
mountains.  There  was  nothing  in  their  appearance  either 
grand  or  picturesque,  though  they  were  desolate  to  the  last 
degree,  being  mere  piles  of  black  and  broken  rocks,  without 
treas  or  vegetation  of  any  kind.  As  we  passed  among  them 
along  a  wide  valley,  I  noticed  Raymond  riding  by  the  side  of  a 

14 


314  THE  califor:;ia  and  orecon  trail. 

young  squaw  to  whom  lie  was  addressing  various  insinuating 
compliments.  All  the  old  squaws  in  the  ncigliborliood  watched 
his  proceedings  in  great  admiration,  and  the  girl  herself  would 
turn  aside  her  head  and  laugh.  Just  then  the  old  mule  thought 
proper  to  display  her  vicious  pranks ;  she  began  to  rear  and 
plunge  most  furiously.  Raymond  was  an  excellent  rider,  and 
at  first  he  stuck  fast  in  his  seat ;  but  the  moment  after,  I  saw 
the  mule's  hind-legs  flourishing  in  the  air,  and  my  unlucky 
follower  pitching  head  foremost  over  her  ears.  There  was  a 
burst  of  screams  and  laughter  from  all  ihe  women,  in  which 
his  mistress  herself  took  part,  and  Raymond  was  instantly  as- 
sailed by  such  a  shower  of  witticisms,  that  he  w^as  glad  to  ride 
forward  out  of  hearing. 

Not  long  after,  as  I  rode  near  him,  I  heard  him  shouting  to 
me.  He  was  pointing  toward  a  detached  rocky  hill  that  stood 
in  the  middle  of  the  valley  before  us,  and  from  behind  it  a  long- 
file  of  elk  came  out  at  full  speed  and  entered  an  opening  in  the 
fcide  of  the  mountain.  They  had  scarcely  disappeared,  when 
whoops  and  exclamations  came  from  fifty  voices  around  me. 
The  young  men  leaped  from  their  horses,  flung  down  their 
heavy  buffalo-robes,  and  ran  at  full  speed  toward  the  foot  of  the 
nearest  mountain.  Rcynal  also  broke  away  at  a  gallop  in  the 
same  direction,  '  Come  on  !  come  on  !'  he  called  to  us,  '  Do 
you  see  that  band  of  big-horn  up  yonder  ?  If  there's  one  of 
them,  there's  a  hundred  !' 

In  fact,  near  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  I  could  see  a 
large  number  of  small  white  objects,  moving  rapidly  upward 
among  the  precipices,  while  others  were  filing  along  its  rocky 
profile.  Anxious  to  see  the  sport,  galloped  forward,  and  en- 
tering  a  passage  in  the  side  of  the  mountain,  ascended  among 


ASSAGE    OF    THE    BIOUNTAINS.  315 

the  loose  rocks  as  far  as  my  horse  could  carry  me.  Here  I 
fastened  her  to  an  old  pine-tree  that  stood  alone,  scorching  in 
the  sun.  At  that  moment  Raymond  called  to  me  from  the 
right  that  another  band  of  sheep  was  close  at  hand  in  that  direc- 
tion. I  ran  up  to  the  top  of  the  opening,  which  gave  me  a  full 
view  into  the  rocky  gorge  beyond ;  and  here  I  plainly  saw 
some  fifty  or  sixty  sheep,  almost  within  rifle-shot,  clattering 
upward  among  the  rocks,  and  endeavoring,  after  their  usual 
custom,  to  reach  the  highest  point.  Tlie  naked  Indians  bounded 
up  lightly  in  pursuit.  In  a  moment  the  game  and  hunters  dis- 
appeared. Nothing  could  be  seen  or  heard  but  the  occasional 
report  of  a  gun,  more  and  more  distant,  reverberating  among 
the  roci-is. 

I  turned  to  descend,  and  as  I  did  so,  I  could  see  the  valley 
beluw  alive  with  Indians  passing  rapidly  through  it,  on  horse- 
back and  on  foot.  A  little  farther  on,  all  were  stopping  as  they 
came  up ;  the  camp  was  preparing,  and  the  lodges  rising.  I 
descended  to  this  spot,  and  soon  after  Reynal  and  Raymond 
returned.  They  bore  between  them  a  sheep  which  they  had 
pelted  to  death  with  stones  from  the  edge  of  a  ravine,  along  the 
bottom  of  which  it  was  attempting  to  escape.  One  by  one  the 
hunters  came  dropping  in  ;  yet  such  is  the  activity  of  the  Rocky 
Mountain  sheep,  that  although  sixty  or  seventy  men  were  out  in 
pursuit,  not  more  thar  half  a  dozen  animals  were  killed.  Of 
these  only  one  was  a  full  grown  male.  He  had  a  pair  of  horns 
twiiited  like  a  ram's,  the  dimensions  of  which  were  almost 
beyond  belief.  I  have  seen  ftmong  the  Indians  ladles  with  long 
handles,  capable  of  containing  more  than  a  quart,  cut  out  from 
such  horns. 

There  is  something  peculiarly  interesting  in  the  character 


316  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

and  habits  of  the  nioiintuin  sheep,  whose  chosen  retreats  are 
above  the  region  of  vegetation  and  of  storms,  and  who  leap 
among  the  giddy  precipices  of  their  aerial  home  as  actively  as 
the  antelope  skims  over  the  prairies  below. 

Through  the  whole  of  the  next  morning  we  were  moving 
forward,  among  the  hills.  On  the  following  day  the  heights 
gathered  around  us,  and  the  passage  of  the  mountains  began  in 
earnest.  Before  the  village  left  its  camping-ground,  I  set 
forward  in  company  with  the  Eagle-Feather,  a  man  of  power- 
ful  frame,  but  of  bad  and  sinister  face.  His  son,  a  light-limbed 
boy,  rode  with  us,  and  another  Indian,  named  the  Panther,  was 
also  of  the  party.  Leaving  the  village  out  of  sight  behind  us, 
we  rode  together  up  a  rocky  defile.  After  a  while,  however,  the 
Eagle-Feather  discovered  in  the  distance  some  appearance  of 
game,  and  set  off  with  his  son  in  pursuit  of  it,  while  I  went 
forward  with  the  Panther.  This  was  a  mere  nom  de  guerre  ; 
for,  like  many  Indians,  he  concealed  his  real  name  out  of  some 
superstitious  notion.  He  was  a  very  noble  looking  fellow. 
As  he  suffered  his  ornamented  buffalo-robe  to  fall  in  folds 
about  his  loins,  his  stately  and  graceful  figure  was  fully  dis- 
played ;  and  while  he  sat  his  horse  in  an  easy  attitude,  the  long 
feathers  of  the  prairie-cock  fluttering  from  the  crown  of  his 
head,  he  seemed  the  very  model  of  a  wild  prairie-rider.  He 
had  not  the  same  features  with  those  of  other  Indians.  Unless 
his  handsome  face  greatly  belied  him,  he  was  free  from  the 
jealousy,  suspicion  and  malignant  cunning  of  his  people.  For 
the  most  part,  a  civilized  white  man  can  discover  but  very  few 
points  of  sympathy  between  his  own  nature  and  that  of  an 
Indian.  With  every  disposition  to  do  justice  to  their  good 
qualities,  he  must  be  conscious  thai  an  impassable  gulf  lies 


PASSAGE    OF   THE    MOUNTAINS,  317 

between  him  and  his  red  brethren  of  the  prairie.  Nay,  so 
alien  to  himself  do  they  appear,  that  having  breathed  for  a  few 
months  or  a  few  weeks  the  air  of  this  region,  he  begins  to  look 
upon  them  as  a  troublesome  and  dangerous  species  of  wild 
beast,  and  if  expedient,  he  could  shoot  them  with  as  little  com- 
punction as  they  themselves  would  experience  after  performing 
the  same  office  upon  him.  Yet,  in  the  countenance  of  the 
Panther,  I  gladly  read  that  there  were  at  least  some  points  of 
sympathy  between  him  and  me.  We  were  excellent  friends, 
and  as  we  rode  forward  together  through  rocky  passages,  deep 
dells  and  little  barren  plains,  he  occupied  himself  very  zeal- 
ously in  teaching  me  the  Dahcotah  language.  After  a  while, 
we  came  to  a  little  grassy  recess,  where  some  gooseberry- 
bushes  were  growing  at  the  foot  of  a  rock  :  and  these  offered 
such  temptation  to  my  companion,  that  he  gave  over  his 
instruction,  and  stopped  so  long  to  gather  the  fruit,  that  before 
we  were  in  motion  again  the  van  of  the  village  came  in  view. 
An  old  woman  appeared,  leading  down  her  pack-horse  among 
the  rocks  above.  Savage  after  savage  followed,  and  the  little 
dell  was  soon  crowded  with  the  throng. 

That  morning's  march  was  one  not  easily  to  be  forgotten. 
It  led  us  through  a  sublime  waste,  a  wilderness  of  mountains 
and  pine-forests,  over  which  the  spirit  of  loneliness  and  silence 
seemed  brooding.  Above  and  below,  little  could  be  seen  but 
the  same  dark  green  foliage.  It  overspread  the  valleys,  and 
the  mountains  were  clothed  with  it,  from  the  black  rocks  that 
crowned  their  summits  to  the  impetuous  streams  that  circled 
round  their  base.  Scenery  like  this,  it  might  seem,  could  have 
no  very  cheering  effect  on  the' mind  of  a  sick  man,  (for  to-day 
my  disease  had  again  assailed  me,)  in  the  midst  of  a  horde  of 


318  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

savages ,  but  if  the  reader  has  ever  wandered,  with  a  true 
hunter's  spirit,  among  the  forests  of  Maine,  or  the  more  pictur- 
esque  solitudes  of  the  Adirondack  Mountains,  he  will  under- 
stand  liow  the  sombre  woods  and  mountains  around  me  might 
have  awakened  any  other  feelings  than  those  of  gloom.  In 
truth,  they  recalled  gladdening  recollections  of  similar  scenes 
in  a  distant  and  far  different  land. 

After  we  had  been  advancing  for  several  hours,  through 
passages  always  narrow,  often  obstructed  and  difficult,  I  saw 
at  a  little  distance  on  our  right  a  narrow  opening  between  two 
high,  wooded  precipices.  All  witliin  seemed  darkness  and 
mystery.  In  the  mood  in  which  I  found  myself,  something 
strongly  impelled  me  to  enter.  Passing  over  the  intervening 
space,  I  guided  my  horse  through  the  rocky  portal,  and  as  I 
did  so,  instinctively  drew  the  covering  from  my  rifle,  half 
expecting  that  some  unknown  evil  lay  in  ambush  within  those 
dreary  recesses.  The  place  was  shut  in  among  tall  clitrs,  and 
so  deeply  shadowed  by  a  host  of  old  pine-trees,  that  though  the 
sun  shone  bright  on  the  side  of  the  mountahi,  nothing  but  a  dim 
twilight  could  penetrate  within.  As  far  as  I  could  see,  it  had 
no  tenants  except  a  few  hawks  and  owls,  who,  dismayed  at  my 
intrusion,  flapped  hoarsely  away  among  the  shaggy  branches. 
I  moved  forward,  determined  to  explore  the  mystery  to  the 
bottom,  and  soon  became  involved  among  the  pines.  The 
genius  of  the  place  exercised  a  strange  influence  upon  my 
mind.  Its  faculties  were  stimulated  into  extraordinary  activity, 
and  as  I  passed  along,  many  half- forgotten  incidents,  and  the 
images  of  persons  and  things  far  distant,  rose  rapidly  before 
me,  with  surprising  distinctness.  In  that  perilous  wilderness, 
eight  hundred  miles  removed  beyond  the   faintest  vestige  of 


tassAjE  of  the  mountains.  319 

civilization,  the  scenes  of    another    hemisphere,    the    seat  of 
ancient  refinement  passed  before  me,  more  like  a  succession  of 
vivid  paintings  than  any  mere  dreams  of  the  fancy.     1  saw  the 
church  of  St.  Peter's  illumined  on  the  evening  of  Easter-Day, 
the  whole  majestic   pile  from  the  cross  to  the  foundation-stone, 
pencilled  in  fire,  and  shedding  a  radiance,  like  the  serene  light 
of  the  moon,  on  the  sea  of  upturned  faces  below.     1  sav/   the 
peak  of  Mount  Etna  towering  above  its  inky  mantle  of  clouds, 
and  lighily  curling  its  wreaths  of  milk-white  smoke  against  the 
soft  sky,   flushed   with   the   Sicilian   sunset.       [  saw    also  the 
gloomy  vaulted  passages  and  the  narrow  cells  of  the  Passionist 
convent,  where  I  once   had  sojourned    for  a  kw  days  with   the 
fanatical  monks,  its  pale  stern  inmates,  in  their  robes  of  black  ; 
and   the  grated  window   from  whence   I  could    look  out,  a  for. 
bidden    indulgence,    upon    the    melancholy  Coliseum   and    the 
ci'umbling  ruins  of  the  Eternal  City.     The  mighty  glaciers  of 
the  Sjjlugcn  too,  rose  before  me,  gleaming  in  the  sun  like  polished 
silver,  and  those  terrible  solitudes,  the  birth-place  of  the  Rhine, 
where  bursting  from  the  bowels  of  its  native  mountain  it  lashes 
and  foams  down  the  rocky  abyss  into  the  little  valley  of  Andeer. 
These   recollections,  and  many  more  crowded   upon    me,  until 
remembering  that  it  was  hardly  wise  to  remain   long  in  such  a 
place,  I  mounted    again  and  retraced  my  steps.     Issuing  from 
between   the   rocks,  I  saw,  a   fevv   rods  before  me,  the   men, 
women  and  children,  dogs  and   horses,  still  filing  slowly  across 
the  little  glen.     A  bare  round  hill  rose  directly  above  them.    I 
rode  to  the  top,  and   from   this  point  I  could   look  down  on  the 
savage  procession  as  it  passed  just  beneath  my  feet,  and  far  on 
the   U^ft  I  could   see   its  thin   and   broken   line,  visible   only  at 
intervals,  stretching  away  for  miles  among  tho  mountains.     On 


320  THE    CALIFORN.A    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

the  farthest  ridge,  horsemen  were  still    descending  lijse  mere 
specks  in  the  distance. 

I  remained  on  the  hill  until  all  had  passed,  and  then  de- 
scending followed  after  them.  A  little  farther  on  I  found  a 
very  small  meadow,  set  deeply  among  steep  mountains ;  and  here 
the  whole  village  had  encamped.  The  little  spot  was  crowded 
with  the  confused  and  disorderly  host.  Some  of  the  lodges 
were  already  completely  prepared,  or  the  squaws  perhaps  were 
busy  in  drawing  the  heavy  coverings  of  skin  over  the  bare 
poles.  Others  were  as  yet  mere  skeletons,  while  others  still, 
poles,  covering  and  all,  lay  scattered  in  complete  disorder 
on  the  ground  among  buffalo- robes,  bales  of  meat,  domestic 
utensils,  harness  and  weapons.  Squaws  were  screaming  to 
one  another,  horses  rearing  and  plunging,  dogs  yelping,  eager 
to  be  disburdened  of  their  loads,  while  the  fluttering  of  feather? 
and  the  gleam  of  barbaric  ornaments  added  liveliness  to  the 
scene.  The  small  children  ran  about  amid  the  crowd,  while 
many  of  the  boys  were  scrambling  among  the  overhanging 
rocks,  and  standing,  with  their  little  bows  in  their  hands,  look- 
ing down  upon  the  restless  throng.  In  contrast  with  the  gen- 
eral confusion,  a  circle  of  old  men  and  warriors  sat  in  the 
midst,  smoking  in  profound  indifference  and  tranquillity.  The 
disorder  at  length  subsided.  The  horses  were  driven  away  to 
feed  along  the  adjacent  valley,  and  the  camp  assumed  an  air  of 
listless  repose.  It  was  scarcely  past  noon ;  a  vast  white  canopy  of 
smoke  from  a  burning  forest  to  the  eastward  overhung  the  place, 
and  partially  obscured  the  rays  of  the  sun ;  yet  the  heat  was 
almost  insupportable.  The  lodges  stood  crowded  together 
without  order  in  the  narrow  space.  Each  was  a  perfect  hot- 
house, within  which  the  lazy  proprietor  lay  sleeping.      The 


PASSAGE    OF   THE    MOtJNTAINS.  321 

camp  was  silent  as  death.  Nothing  stirred  except  now  and 
then  an  old  woman  passing  from  lodge  to  lodge.  The  girls  and 
young  men  sat  together  in  groups,  under  the  pine-trees  upon 
the  surrounding  heights.  The  dogs  lay  panting  on  the  ground, 
too  lazy  even  to  growl  at  the  white  man.  At  the  entrance  of 
the  meadow,  there  was  a  cold  spring  among  the  rocks,  com- 
pletely overshadowed  by  tall  trees  and  dense  undergrowth.  In 
this  cool  and  shady  retreat  a  number  of  the  girls  were  assem- 
bled, sitting  together  on  rocks  and  fallen  logs,  discussing  the 
latest  gossip  of  the  village,  or  laughing  and  throwing  water 
with  their  hands  at  the  intruding  Meneaska.  The  minutes 
seemed  lengthened  into  hours.  I  lay  for  a  long  time  under  a 
tree,  studying  the  Ogillallah  tongue,  with  the  zealous  instruc- 
tions of  my  friend  the  Panther.  When  we  were  both  tired  of 
this,  I  went  and  lay  down  by  the  side  of  a  deep,  clear  pool, 
formed  by  the  water  of  the  spring.  A  shoal  of  little  fishes  of 
about  a  pin's  length  were  playing  in  it,  sporting  together,  as  it 
seemed,  very  amicably ;  but  on  closer  observation,  I  saw  that 
they  were  engaged  in  a  cannibal  warfare  among  themselves. 
Now  and  then  a  small  one  would  fall  a  victim,  and  immedi- 
ately disappear  down  the  maw  of  his  voracious  conqueror. 
Every  moment,  however,  the  tyrant  of  the  pool,  a  monster  about 
three  inches  long,  with  staring  goggle  eyes,  would  slowly  issue 
forth  with  quivering  fins  and  tail  from  under  the  shelving  bank. 
The  small  fry  at  this  would  suspend  their  hostilities,  and  scat- 
ter in  a  panic  at  the  appearance  of  overwhelming  force. 

'  Soft-hearted  philanthropists,'  thought  I,  '  may  sigh  long  for 
their  peaceful  millennium ;  for  from  minnows  up  to  men,  life 
is  an  incessant  battle.' 

Evening  approached  at  last,  the  tall  mountain-tops  around 


322  THE    CALIFOKNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

were  still  gay  and  bright  in  sunshine,  while  our  deep  gler.  was 
completely  shadowed.  I  left  the  camp,  and  ascended  a  neigh- 
boring hill,  whose  rocky  summit  commanded  a  wide  view  over 
the  surrounding  wilderness.  The  sun  was  still  glaring  through 
the  stiff  pines  on  the  ridge  of  the  western  mountain.  In  a  mo- 
ment he  was  gone,  and  as  the  landscape  rapidly  darkened,  I 
turned  again  toward  the  village-  As  I  descended  the  hill,  the 
howling  of  wolves  and  the  barking  of  foxes,  came  up  out  of  the 
dim  woods  from  far  and  near.  The  camp  was  glowing  with  a 
multitude  of  fires,  and  alive  with  dusky  naked  figures,  whose 
tall  shadows  flitted  among  the  surrounding  crags. 

I  found  a  circle  of  sn-okers  seated  in  their  usual  place ; 
that  is,  on  the  ground  before  the  lodge  of  a  certain  warrior, 
who  seemed  to  be  generally  known  for  his  social  qualities.  I 
sat  down  to  smoke  a  parting  pipe  with  my  savage  friends. 
That  day  was  the  first  of  August,  on  which  I  had  promised  to 
meet  Shaw  at  Fort  Laramie.  The  Fort  was  less  than  two 
days'  journey  distant,  and  that  my  friend  need  not  suffer  anx- 
iety on  my  account,  I  resolved  to  push  forward  as  rapidly  as 
possible  to  the  place  of  meeting.  I  went  to  look  after  the  Hail- 
Storm,  and  having  found  him,  I  offered  him  a  handful  ot  hawks'- 
bells  and  a  paper  of  vermilion,  on  condition  tluit  he  would 
guide  me  in  the  morning  through  the  mountains  within  sight  of 
Laramie  Creek. 

The  Hail-Storm  ejaculated  'How/'  and  accepted  the  gift. 
Nothing  more  was  said  on  either  side  ;  the  matter  was  settled, 
and  I  lay  down  to  sleep  in  Kongra-Ton;ja's  lodge. 

Long  before  daylight,  Raymond  shook  me  by  the  shoulder 

'  Every  thing  is  ready,'  he  said. 

I  went  out.     The  morning  was  chill,  damp,  anc  dark  ;  and 


PASSAGE    OF    THE    MOUNTAINS.  323 

the  whole  camp  seemed  asleep.  The  Hail-Storm  sat  on  horse- 
back before  the  lodge,  and  my  mare  Pauline  and  the  mule 
which  Raymond  rode  were  picketed  near  it.  We  saddled  and 
made  our  other  arrangements  for  the  journey,  but  before  these 
were  completed  the  camp  began  to  stir,  and  the  lodge-coverings 
fluttered  and  rustled  as  the  squaws  pulled  them  down  in  pre- 
paration for  departure.  Just  as  the  light  began  to  appear,  we 
left  the  ground,  passing  up  through  a  narrow  opening  among 
the  rocks  which  led  eastward  out  of  the  meadow.  Gaining 
the  top  of  this  passage,  I  turned  round  and  sat  looking  back 
upon  the  camp,  dimly  visible  in  the  gray  light  of  the  morning. 
All  was  alive  with  the  bustle  of  preparation.  I  turned  awa}-, 
half  unwilling  to  take  a  final  leave  of  my  savage  associates. 
We  turned  to  the  right,  passing  among  rocks  and  pine-trees  so 
dark,  that  for  a  while  we  could  scarcely  see  our  way.  The 
country  in  front  was  wild  and  broken,  half  hill,  half  plain, 
partly  open  and  partly  covered  with  woods  of  pine  and  oak. 
Barriers  of  lofty  mountains  encompassed  it ;  the  woods  were 
fresh  and  cool  in  the  early  morning ;  the  peaks  of  the  moun- 
tains were  wreathed  with  mist,  and  sluggish  vapors  were  entan- 
gled among  the  forests  upon  their  sides.  At  length  the  black 
pinnacle  of  the  tallest  mountain  was  tipped  with  gold  by  the 
rising  sun.  About  that  time  the  Hail-Storm,  who  rode  in  front, 
gave  a  low  exclamation.  Some  large  animal  leaped  up  from 
among  the  bushes,  and  an  elk,  as  I  thought,  his  horns  thrown 
back  over  his  neck,  darted  past  us  across  the  open  space,  and 
bounded  like  a  mad  thing  away  among  the  adjoining  pines. 
Raymond  was  soon  out  of  his  saddle,  but  before  he  could  fire, 
the  animal  was  full  two  hundred  yards  distant.  The  ball 
struck  its  mark,  though  much  too  low  for  mortal  effect.     Tho 


324  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

elk  however  wheeled  in  his  flight,  and  ran  at  full  speed  among 
the  trees,  nearly  at  right  angles  to  his  former  course.  I  fired 
and  broke  his  shoulder ;  still  he  moved  on,  limping  down  into 
a  neighboring  woody  hollow,  whither  the  young  Indian  followed 
and  killed  him.  When  we  reached  the  spot,  we  discovered 
him  to  be  no  elk,  but  a  black-tailed  deer,  an  animal  nearly 
twice  the  size  of  the  common  deer,  and  quite  unknown  in  the 
east.  We  began  to  cut  him  up  :  the  reports  of  the  rifles  had 
reached  the  ears  of  the  Indians,  and  before  our  task  was  fin- 
ished several  of  them  came  to  the  spot.  Leaving  the  hide  of 
the  deer  to  the  Hail-Storm,  we  hung  as  much  of  the  meat  as  we 
wanted  behind  our  saddles,  left  the  rest  to  the  Indians,  and  re- 
sumed our  journey.  Meanwhile  the  village  was  on  its  way, 
and  had  gone  so  far,  that  to  get  in  advance  of  it  was  impossible. 
Therefore  we  directed  our  course  so  as  to  strike  its  line  of 
march  at  the  nearest  point.  In  a  short  time,  through  the  dark 
trunks  of  the  pines,  w^e  could  see  the  figures  of  the  Indians  as 
ihey  passed.  Once  more  we  were  among  them.  They  were 
moving  with  even  more  than  their  usual  precipitation,  crowded 
close  together  in  a  narrow  pass  between  rocks  and  old  pine- 
trees.  We  were  on  the  eastern  descent  of  the  mountain,  and 
soon  came  to  a  rough  and  difficult  defile,  leading  down  a  very 
steep  declivity.  The  whole  swarm  poured  down  together,  fill- 
ing the  rocky  passage-way  like  some  turbulent  mountain- 
stream.  The  mountains  before  us  were  on  fire,  and  had  been 
so  for  weeks.  The  view  in  front  was  obscured  by  a  vast  dim 
sea  of  smoke  and  vapor,  while  on  either  hand  the  tall  clififs, 
bearing  aloft  their  crest  of  pines,  thrust  their  heads .  boldly 
through  it,  and  the  sharp  pinnacles  and  broken  ridges  of  the 
mountains  beyond  them  were  faintly  traceable  as  through  a  veil. 


PASSAGE    OF    THE    MOUNTAINS.  '  325 

The  scene  in  itself  was  most  grand  and  imposing,  but  with  the 
savage  multitude,  the  armed  warriors,  the  naked  children,  the 
gayly  apparelled  girls,  pouring  impetuously  down  the  heights, 
it  would  have  formed  a  noble  subject  for  a  painter,  and 
only  the  pen  of  a  Scott  could  have  done  it  justice  in  descrip- 
tion. 

We  passed  over  a  burnt  tract  where  the  ground  was  hot 
beneath  the  horses'  feet,  and  between  the  blazing  sides  of  two 
mountains.  Before  long  we  had  descended  to  a  softer  region, 
where  we  found  a  succession  of  littl^  valleys  watered  by  a 
stream,  along  the  borders  of  which  grew  abundance  of  wild 
gooseberries  and  currants,  and  the  children  and  many  of  the 
men  straggled  from  the  line  of  march  to  gather  them  as  we 
passed  along.  Descending  still  farther,  the  view  changed 
rapidly.  The  burning  mountains  were  behind  us,  and  through 
the  open  valleys  in  front  we  could  see  the  ocean-like  prairie, 
stretching  beyond  the  sight.  After  passing  through  a  line  of 
trees  that  skirted  the  brook,  the  Indians  filed  out  upon  the 
plains.  I  was  thirsty  and  knelt  down  by  the  little  stream  to  drink. 
As  I  mounted  again,  I  very  carelessly  left  my  rifle  among  the 
grass,  and  my  thoughts  being  otherwise  absorbed,  I  rode  for 
some  distance  before  discovering  its  absence.  As  the  reader 
may  conceive,  I  lost  no  time  in  turning  about  and  galloping 
back  in  search  of  it.  Passing  the  line  of  Indians,  I  watched 
every  warrior  as  he  rode  by  me  at  a  canter,  and  at  length  dis- 
covered my  rifle  in  the  hands  of  one  of  them,  who,  on  my  ap- 
proaching to  claim  it,  immediately  gave  it  up.  Having  no 
other  means  of  acknowledging  the  obligation,  I  took  off"  one  of 
I  my  spurs  and  gave  it  to  him.  He  was  greatly  delighted,  look- 
ing upon  it  as  a  distinguished  mark  of  favor,  and  immediately 


"22^ 


326  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

held  out  his  foot  for  me  to  buckle  it  on.  As  soon  as  I  had  done 
so,  he  struck  it  with  all  his  force  into  the  side  of  his  horse, 
who  gave  a  violent  leap.  The  Indian  laughed  and  spurred 
harder  than  before.  At  this  the  horse  shot  away  like  an  arrow, 
amid  the  screams  and  laughter  of  the  squaws,  and  the  ejacu- 
lations of  the  men,  who  exclaimed  :  "  Washtay  ! — Good  !'  al 
the  potent  effect  of  my  gift.  The  Indian  had  no  saddle,  and 
nothing  in  place  of  a  bridle  except  a  leather  string  tied  round 
the  horse's  jaw.  The  animal  was  of  course  wholly  uncontrolla- 
ble, and  stretched  aw^'  at  full  speed  over  the  prairie,  till  he 
and  his  rider  vanished  behind  a  distant  swell.  I  never  saw  the 
man  again,  but  I  presume  no  harm  came  to  him.  An  Indian 
on  horseback  has  more  lives  than  a  cat. 

The  village  encamped  on  the  scorching  prairie,  close  to  the 
foot  of  the  mountains.  The  heat  was  most  intense  and  pene- 
tratinfj.  The  coverincrs  of  the  lodgings  were  raised  a  foot  or 
more  from  the  ground,  in  order  to  procure  some  circulation  of 
air  J  and  Reynal  thought  proper  to  lay  aside  his  trapper's  dress 
of  buckskin  and  assume  the  very  scanty  costume  of  an  Indian. 
Thus  elegantly  attired,  he  stretched  himself  in  his  lodge  on  a 
buffalo-robe,  alternately  cursing  the  heat  and  puffing  at  the 
pipe  which  he  and  I  passed  between  us.  There  was  present 
also  a  select  circle  of  Indian  friends  and  relatives.  A  small 
boiled  puppy  was  served  up  as  a  parting  feast,  to  which  was 
added,  by  way  of  dessert,  a  wooden  bowl  of  gooseberries,  from 
the  mountains. 

'  Look  there,'  said  Reynal,  pointing  out  of  the  opening 
of  his  lodge  ;  '  do  you  see  that  line  of  buttes  about  fifteen 
miles  off?     Well,  now  do  you  see  that  farthest  one,  with  the 


PASSAGE    OF   THE    MOUNTAINS.  327 

white  speck  on  the  face  of  it  ?     Do  you  think  you  ever  saw  it 
before  V 

'  It  looks  to  me,'  said  I,  '  like  the  hill  that  we  were  'camped 
under  when  we  were  on  Laramie  Creek,  six  or  eight  weeks 
ago.' 

'  You've  hit  it,'   answered   Reynal. 

'  Go,  and  bring  in  the  animals,  Raymond,'  said  I  ; 
*  we'll  camp  there  to-night,  and  start  for  the  fort  in  the 
morning.' 

The  mare  and  the  mule  were  soon  before  the  lodge.  We 
saddled  them,  and  in  the  mean  time  a  number  of  Indians  col- 
lected about  us.  The  virtues  of  Pauline,  my  strong,  fleet,  and 
hardy  little  mare,  were  well  known  in  camp,  and  several  of  the 
visitors  were  mounted  upon  good  horses  which  they  had 
brought  me  as  presents.  I  promptly  declined  their  offers,  since 
accepting  them  would  have  involved  the  necessity  of  transfer, 
ring  poor  Pauline  into  their  barbarous  hands.  We  took  leave 
of  Reynal,  but  not  of  the  Indians,  who  are  accustomed  to  dis- 
pense with  such  superfluous  ceremonies.  Leaving  the  camp, 
we  rode  straight  over  the  prairie  towards  the  white-faced  bluff, 
whose  pale  ridges  swelled  gently  against  the  horizon,  like  a 
cloud.  An  Indian  went  with  us.  whose  name  I  forget,  though 
the  ugliness  of  his  face  and  the  ghastly  width  of  his  mouth 
dwell  vividly  in  my  recollection.  The  antelope  were  numer- 
ous, but  we  did  not  heed  them.  We  rode  directly  towards 
our  destination,  over  the  arid  plauis  and  barren  hills ;  until, 
late  in  the  afternoon,  half  spent  with  heat,  thirst,  and  fatigue, 
we  saw  a  gladdening  sight ;  the  long  line  of  trees  and  the  deep 
gulf  that  mark  the  course  of  Laramie  Creek.  Passing  through 
the  growth  of  huge  dilapidated  old  cotton-wood  trees  that  bor- 


w- 


328         THE  CALIFORNIA  ANT  OREGON  TRAIL. 

dered  tlic  creek,  we  rode  across  to  tlio  oilier  side.  The  rapid 
and  foaming  waters  were  filled  with  fish  playing  and  splashing 
in  the  shallows.  As  we  gained  the  farther  bai.lv,  our  horses 
turned  eagerly  to  drink,  and  we,  kneeling  on  the  sand,  followed 
their  example.  We  had  not  gone  far  before  the  scene  began 
to  grow  familiar. 

'  We  are  getting  near  home,  Raymond,'  said  I. 

There  stood  the  Big  Tree  under  which  we  had  encamped  so 
long ;  there  were  the  white  cliffs  that  used  to  look  down  upon 
our  tent  when  it  stood  at  the  bend  of  the  creek  ;  there  was  the 
meadow  in  which  our  norses  had  grazed  for  weeks,  and  a  little 
farther  on,  the  prairie-dog  village  where  I  had  beguiled  many 
a  languid  hour  in  perseputing  the  unfortunate  inhabitants. 

'  We  are  going  to  catch  it  now,'  said  Raymond,  turning  hia 
broad,  vacant  face  up  toward  the  sky. 

In  truth  the  landscape,  the  cliffs,  and  the  meadow,  the 
stream  and  the  groves,  were  darkening  fast.  Black  masses  of 
cloud  were  swelling  up  in  the  south,  and  the  thunder  was 
growling  ominously. 

'  We  will  'camp  there,'  I  said,  pointing  to  a  dense  grove  of 
trees  lower  down  the  stream.  Raymond  and  I  turned  toward 
it,  but  the  Indian  stopped  and  called  earnestly  after  us.  When 
we  demanded  what  was  the  matter,  he  said,  that  the  ghosts  of 
two  warriors  were  always  among  those  trees,  and  that  if  we 
slept  there,  they  would  scream  and  throw  stones  at  us  all  night, 
and  perhaps  steal  our  horses  before  morning.  Thinking  it  as 
well  to  humor  him,  we  left  behind  us  the  haunt  of  these  extra- 
ordinary ghosts,  and  passed  on  toward  Chugwater,  riding  at  full 
gallop,  for  the  big  drops  began  to  patter  down.  Soon  we  came 
in  sight  of  the  poplar  saplings  that  grew  about  the  mouth  of  the 


PASSAGE    OF    THE    MOUNTAINS.  329 

little  stream.  We  leaped  to  the  ground,  threw  off  our  saddles, 
turned  our  horses  loose,  and  drawing  our  knives  began  to  slash 
among  the  bushes  to  cut  twigs  and  branches  for  making  a  shel- 
ter against  the  rain.  Bending  down  the  taller  saplings  as  they 
grew,  we  piled  the  young  shoots  upon  them,  and  thus  made  a 
convenient  pent-house ;  but  all  our  labor  was  useless.  The 
storm  scarcely  touched  us.  Half  a  mile  on  our  right  the  rain 
was  pouring  down  like  a  cataract,  and  the  thunder  roared  over 
the  prairie  like  a  battery  of  cannon ;  while  we  by  good  fortune 
received  only  a  few  heavy  drops  from  the  skirt  of  the  passing 
cloud.  The  weather  cleared  and  the  sun  set  gloriously.  Sitting 
close  under  our  leafy  canopy,  we  proceeded  to  discuss  a  substan- 
tial meal  of  wasna  which  Weah-Washtay  had  given  me.  The 
Indian  had  brought  with  him  his  pipe  and  a  bag  of  shongsasJia  ; 
so  before  lying  down  to  sleep,  we  sat  for  some  time  smoking 
together.  Previously,  however,  our  wide-mouthed  friend  had 
taken  the  precaution  of  carefully  examining  the  neighborhood. 
He  reported  that  eight  men,  counting  them  on  his  fingers,  had 
been  encamped  there  not  long  before.  Bisonette,  Paul  Dorion, 
Antoine  Le  Rouge,  Richardson,  and  four  others,  whose  names 
he  could  not  tell.  All  this  proved  strictly  correct.  By  what 
instinct  he  had  arrived  at  such  accurate  conclusions,  I  am  utter- 
ly at  a  loss  to  divine. 

It  was  still  quite  dark  when  I  awoke  and  called  Raymond. 
The  Indian  was  already  gone,  having  chosen  to  go  on  before 
us  to  the  Fort.  Setting  out  after  him,  we  rode  for  some  time 
in  complete  darkness,  and  when  the  sun  at  length  rose,  glowing 
like  a  fiery  ball  of  copper,  we  were  ten  miles  distant  from  the 
Fort.,  At  length,  from  the  broken  summit  of  a  tall  sandy  bluff 
we  could  see  Fort  Laramie,  miles  before  us,  standing  by  the 


330         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

side  of  the  stream  like  a  little  gray  speck,  in  the  midst  of  the 
boundless  desolation.  I  stopped  my  horse,  and  sat  for  a  mo- 
ment looking  down  upon  it.  It  seemed  to  me  the  very  centre 
of  comfort  and  civilization.  We  were  not  long  in  approaching 
it,  for  we  rode  at  speed  the  greater  part  of  the  way.  Laramie 
Creek  still  intervened  between  us  and  the  friendly  walls.  En- 
tering the  water  at  the  point  where  we  had  struck  upon  the 
bank,  we  raised  our  feet  to  the  saddle  behind  us,  and  thus 
kneeling  as  it  were  on  horseback,  passed  dry-shod  through  the 
swift  current.  As  we  rode  up  the  bank,  a  number  of  men 
appeared  in  the  gateway.  Three  of  them  came  forward  to 
meet  us.  In  a  moment  I  distinguished  Shaw  ;  Henry  Chatillon 
followed  with  his  face  of  manly  simplicity  and  frankness,  and 
Delorier  came  last,  with  a  broad  grin  of  welcome.  The  meet- 
ing was  not  on  either  side  one  of  mere  ceremony.  For  my 
own  part,  the  change  was  a  most  agreeable  one  from  the  society 
of  savages  and  men  little  better  than  savages,  to  that  of  my 
gallant  and  high-minded  companion,  and  our  noble-hearted 
guide.  My  appearance  was  equally  gratifying  to  Shaw,  who 
was  beginning  to  entertain  some  very  uncomfortable  surmises 
concerning  me. 

Bordeaux  greeted  me  very  cordially,  and  shouted  to  the 
cook.  This  functionary  was  a  new  acquisition,  having  lately 
come  from  Foit  Pierre  with  the  trading  wagons.  Whatever 
skill  he  might  have  boasted,  he  had  not  the  most  promising 
materials  to  exercise  it  upon.  He  set  before  me,  however,  a 
breakfast  of  biscuit,  coffee,  and  salt  pork.  It  seemed  like  a 
new  phase  of  existence,  to  be  seated  once  more  on  a  bench,  with 
a  knife  and  fork,  a  plate  and  tea-cup,  and  something  resembling 
a  table  before  me.     The  coffee  seemed  delicious,  and  the  bread 


PASSAGE    OF    THE    MOUNTAINS. 


331 


was  a  most  welcome  novelty,  since  for  three  weeks  I  had  eaten 
scarcely  any  thing  but  meat,  and  that  for  the  most  part  without 
salt.  The  meal  also  had  the  relish  of  good  company,  for  oppo- 
site to  me  sat  Shaw  in  elegant  dishabille.  If  one  is  anxious 
thoroughly  to  appreciate  the  value  of  a  congenial  companion, 
he  has  only  to  spend  a  few  weeks  by  himself  in  an  Ogillallah 
village.  And  if  he  can  contrive  to  add  to  his  seclusion,  a  de- 
bilitating and  somewhat  critical  illness,  his  perceptions  upon 
this  subject  will  be  rendered  considerably  more  vivid. 

Shaw  had  been  upwards  of  two  weeks  at  the  Fort.  I  found 
him  established  in  his  old  quarters,  a  large  apartment  usually 
occupied  by  the  absent  hourgeois.  In  one  corner  was  a  soft 
and  luxurious  pile  of  excellent  buffalo-robes,  and  here  I  lay 
down.     Shaw  brought  me  three  books. 

'  Here,'  said  he,  '  is  your  Shakspeare  and  Byron,  and  here  is 
the  Old  Testament,  which  has  as  much  poetry  in  it  as  the  other 
two  put  together.' 

I  chose  the  worst  of  the  three,  and  for  the  greater  part  of 
that  day  I  lay  on  the  buffalo-robes,  fairly  revelling  in  the  crea- 
tions of  that  resplendent  genius  which  has  achieved  no  more 
signal  triumph  than  that  of  half  beguiling  js  to  fcrget  the  piti- 
ful  and  unmanly  character  of  its  possessor. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE     I ONELY    JOURNEY. 

"  Of  antres  vast,  and  deserts  idle, 
Rongh  quarries,  rocks,  and  liills  whose  heads  tonch  heayen." 

Otheixo. 

On  the  day  of  my  arrival  at  Fort  Laramie,  Shaw  and  1 
were  lounging  on  two  buffalo-robes  in  the  large  apartment  hos- 
pitably assigned  to  us ;  Henry  Chatillon  also  was  present,  busy 
about  the  harness  and  weapons,  which  had  been  brought  into 
the  room,  and  two  or  three  Indians  were  crouching  on  the  floor, 
eyeing  us  with  their  fixed  unwavering  gaze. 

'  I  have  been  well  off  here,'  said  Shaw,  '  in  all  respects  but 
one  ;  there  is  no  good  shongsasha  to  be  had  for  love  or  money.' 

I  gave  him  a  small  leather  bag  containing  some  of  excellent 
quality,  which  had  brought  from  the  Black  Hills.  '  Now, 
Henry,'  said  he,  '  hand  me  Papin's  chopping-board,  or  give  it 
to  that  Indian,  and  let  him  cut  the  mixture  ;  they  understand  it 
better  than  any  white  man.' 

The  Indian,  without  saying  a  word,  mixed  the  bark  and  the 
tobacco  in  due  proportions,  filled  the  pipe,  and  lighted  it.  This 
done,  my  companion  and  I  proceeded  to  deliberate  on  our  future 


THE    LONELY   JOURNEY. 


333 


course  of  proceeding ;  first,  however,  Shaw  acquainted  me 
with  some  incidents  which  had  occurred  at  the  fort  during  mv 
absence. 

About  a  week  previous,  four  men  had  arrived  from  beyoni 
the  mountains  ;  Sublette,  Reddick,  and  two  others.  Just  be- 
fore reaching  the  fort,  they  had  met  a  large  party  of  Indians, 
chiefly  young  men.  All  of  them  belonged  to  the  village  of 
our  old  friend  Smoke,  vvho,  with  his  whole  band  of  adherents, 
professed  the  greatest  friendship  for  the  whites.  The  travellers 
therefore  approached,  and  began  to  converse  without  the  least 
suspicion.  Suddenly,  however,  their  bridles  were  violently 
seized,  and  they  were  ordered  to  dismount.  Instead  of  com- 
plying, they  struck  their  horses  with  full  force,  and  broke  away 
from  the  Indians.  As  they  galloped  off  they  heard  a  yell  be- 
hind them,  mixed  with  a  burst  of  derisive  laughter,  and  the 
reports  of  several  guns.  None  of  them  were  hurt,  though  Red- 
dick's  bridle-rein  was  cut  by  a  bullet  within  an  inch  of  his 
hand.  After  this  taste  of  Indian  hostility,  they  felt  for  the  mo- 
ment no  disposition  to  encounter  farther  risks.  They  intended 
to  pureue  the  route  southward  along  the  foot  of  the  mountains 
to  Bent's  Fort ;  and  as  our  plans  coincided  with  theirs,  they 
proposed  to  join  forces.  Finding,  however,  that  I  did  not  re- 
turn, they  grew  impatient  of  inaction,  forgot  their  late  escape, 
and  set  out  without  us,  promising  to  wait  our  arrival  at  Bent's 
Fort.  From  thence  we  were  to  make  the  long  journey  to  the 
settlements  in  company,  as  the  path  was  not  a  little  dangerous, 
oeing  infested  by  hostile  Pawnees  and  Camanches. 

We  expected,  on  reaching  Bent's  Fort,  to  find  there  still 
another  reinforcement.  A  young  Kentuckian,  of  the  true 
Kentucky  blood,  generous,  impetuous,  and  a  gentleman  withal, 


834  TIIK    CALIFORNIA    AND    OKECiON    TRAIL. 

had  come  out  to  the  mountains  with  Russel's  party  of  Califor- 
nia emigrants.  One  of  his  chief  objects,  as  he  ga\e  out,  was 
to  kill  an  Indian  ;  an  exploit  which  he  afterwards  succeeded  in 
achieving,  much  to  the  jeopardy  of  ourselves,  and  others  who  had 
to  pass  through  the  country  of  the  dead  Pawnee's  enraged  rela- 
tives. Having  become  disgusted  with  his  emigrant  associates,  he 
left  them,  and  had  some  time  before  set  out  with  a  party  of  com- 
panions for  the  head  of  the  Arkansas.  He  sent  us  previously 
a  letter,  intimating  that  he  would  wait  until  we  arrived  at 
Bent's  Fort,  and  accompany  us  thence  to  the  settlements. 
When  however  he  came  to  the  fort,  he  found  there  a  party  of 
forty  men  about  to  make  the  homeward  journey.  He  wisely 
preferred  to  avail  himself  of  so  strong  an  escort.  Mr.  Sublette 
and  his  companions  also  set  out,  in  order  to  overtake  this  com- 
pany ;  so  that  on  reaching  Bent's  Fort,  some  six  weeks  after, 
we  found  ourselves  deserted  by  our  allies  and  thrown  once 
more  upon  our  own  resources. 

But  I  am  anticipating.  When,  before  leaving  the  settle- 
ment, we  had  made  inquiries  concerning  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try of  General  Kearney,  Mr.  Mackenzie,  Captain  Wyeth,  and 
others  well  acquainted  with  it,  they  had  all  advised  us  by  no 
means  to  attempt  this  southward  journey  with  fewer  than  fif- 
teen or  twenty  men.  The  danger  consists  in  the  chance  of  en- 
countering Indian  war-parties.  Sometimes,  throughout  the 
whole  length  of  the  journey,  (a  distance  of  three  hundred  and 
fifty  miles,)  one  does  not  meet  a  single  human  being  ;  fre- 
quently, however,  the  route  is  beset  by  Arapahoes  and  other 
unfriendly  tribes  ;  in  which  case  the  scalp  of  the  adventurer  is 
in  imminent  peril.  As  to  the  escort  of  fifteen  or  twenty  men, 
such  a  force  of  whites  could  at  that  time  scarcely  be  collected 


THE    LONELY   JOTTRNEY. 


335 


in  the  whole  country  ;  and  had  the  case  teen  otherwise,  the 
expense  of  securing  them,  together  with  the  necessary  number 
ol'  horses,  would  have  been  extremely  heavy.  We  had  re- 
solved, however,  upon  pursuing  this  southward  course.  There 
were,  indeed,  two  other  routes  from  Fort  Laramie  ;  but  both 
of  these  were  less  interesting  and  neither  was  free  from  danger. 
Being  unable  therefore  to  procure  the  fifteen  or  twenty  men 
recommended,  we  determined  to  set  out  with  those  we  had 
already  in  our  employ ;  Henry  Chatillon,  Delorier  and  Ray- 
mond. The  men  themselves  made  no  objection,  nor  would 
they  have  made  any  had  the  journey  been  more  dangerous ; 
for  Henry  was  without  fear,  and  the  other  two  without  thought. 
Shaw  and  1  were  much  better  fitted  for  this  mode  of  travel- 
ling than  we  had  been  on  betaking  ourselves  to  the  prairies  for 
the  first  time  a  few  months  before.  The  daily  routine  had 
ceased  to  be  a  novelty.  All  the  details  of  the  journey  and  the 
camp  had  become  familiar  to  us.  We  had  seen  life  under  a 
new  aspect ;  the  human  biped  had  been  reduced  to  his  primitive 
condition.  We  had  lived  without  law  to  protect,  a  roof  to 
shelter,  or  garment  of  cloth  to  cover  us.  One  of  us  at  least 
had  been  without  bread,  and  without  salt  to  season  his  food. 
Our  idea  of  what  is  indispensable  to  human  existence  and 
enjoyment  had  been  wonderfully  curtailed,  and  a  horse,  a  rifle 
and  a  knife  seemed  to  make  up  the  whole  of  life's  necessaries. 
For  these  once  obtained,  together  with  the  skill  to  use  them, 
all  else  that  is  essential  would  follow  in  their  train,  and  a  host 
of  luxuries  besides.  One  other  lesson  our  short  prairie  expe- 
rience had  taught  us ;  that  of  profound  contentment  in  the 
present,  and  utter  contempt  for  what  the  future  might  hria^ 
forth. 


336  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

These  principles  established,  we  prepared  to  leave  Fort 
Laramie.  On  the  fourth  day  of  August,  early  in  tne  after, 
noon,  we  bade  a  final  adieu  to  its  hospitable  gateway.  Again 
Shaw  and  I  were  riding  side  by  side  on  the  prairie.  For  the 
first  fifty  miles  we  had  companions  with  us  ;  Troche,  a  little 
trapper,  and  Rouville,  a  nondescript  in  the  employ  of  the  Fur 
Company,  who  were  going  to  join  the  trader  Bisonette  at  his 
encampment  near  the  head  of  Horse  Creek.  We  rode  only  six 
or  eight  miles  that  afternoon  before  we  came  to  a  little  brook 
traversing  the  barren  prairie.  All  along  its  course  grew  copses 
of  young  wild-cherry  trees,  loaded  with  ripe  fruit,  and  almost 
concealing  the  gliding  thread  of  water  with  their  dense  growth, 
while  on  each  side  rose  swells  of  rich  green  gr-ass.  Here  we 
encamped  ;  and  being  much  too  indolent  to  pitch  our  tent,  we 
flung  oui  saddles  on  the  ground,  spread  a  pair  of  buffalo-robes, 
lay  down  upon  them,  and  began  to  smoke.  Meanwhile, 
Delorier  busied  himself  with  his  hissing  frying-pan,  and  Ray- 
mond stood  guard  over  the  band  of  grazing  horses.  Delorier 
had  an  active  assistant  in  Rouville,  who  professed  great  skill  in 
the  culinary  art,  and  seizing  upon  a  fork,  began  to  lend  his 
zealous  aid  in  making  ready  supper.  Indeed,  according  to  his 
own  belief,  Rouville  was  a  man  of  universal  knowledge,  and 
he  lost  no  opportunity  to  display  his  manifold  accomplishments. 
He  had  been  a  circus-rider  at  St.  Louis,  and  once  he  rode 
round  Fort  Laramie  on  his  head,  to  the  utter  bewilderment  of 
all  the  Indians.  He  was  also  noted  as  the  wit  of  the  fort ;  and 
as  he  had  considerable  humor  and  abundant  vivacity,  he  con- 
tributed more  that  night  to  the  liveliness  of  the  camp  than  all 
the  rest  of  the  party  put  together.  At  one  instant  he  would  ba 
kneeling  by  Delorier,  instructing  him  in  the  true  method  of 


• 


THE    LONELY   JOURNEY.  337 

frying  antelope-steaks,  then  he  would  come  and  seat  himself  at 
our  side,  dilating  upon  the  orthodox  fashion  of  braiding  up  a 
horse's  tail,  telling  apocryphal  stories  how  he  had  killed  a  buf- 
falo-bull with  a  knife,  having  first  cut  off  his  tail  when  at  full 
speed,  or  relating  whimsical  anecdotes  of  the  bourgeois  Papin. 
At  last  he  snatched  up  a  volume  of  Shakspeare  that  was  lying 
on  the  grass,  aad  halted  and  stumbled  through  a  line  or  two  to 
prove  that  he  could  read.  He  went  gambolling  about  the 
camp,  chattering  like  some  frolicksome  ape  ;  and  whatever  he 
was  doing  at  one  moment,  the  presumption  was  a  sure  one  that 
he  would  not  be  doing  it  the  next.  His  companion  Troche  sat 
silently  on  the  grass,  not  speaking  a  word,  but  keeping  a 
vigilant  eye  on  a  very  ugly  little  Utah  squaw,  of  whom  he  was 
extremely  jealous. 

On  the  next  day  we  travelled  farther,  crossing  the  wide 
sterile  basin  called  '  Goche's  Hole.'  Towards  night  we  be- 
came involved  among  deep  ravines ;  and  being  also  unable  to 
find  water,  our  journey  was  protracted  to  a  very  late  hour. 
On  the  next  morning  we  had  to  pass  a  long  line  of  bluffs, 
whose  raw  sides,  wrought  upon  by  rains  and  storms,  were  of  a 
ghastly  whiteness  most  oppressive  to  the  sight.  As  we  as- 
cended a  gap  in  these  hills,  the  way  was  marked  by  huge  foot- 
prints, like  those  of  a  human  giant.  They  were  the  track  of 
the  grizzly  bear ;  and  on  the  previous  day  also  we  had  seen 
abundance  of  them  along  the  dry  channels  of  the  streams  we 
had  passed.  Immediately  afler  this  we  were  crossing  a  barren 
plain,  spreading  in  long  and  gentle  undulations  to  the  horizon. 
Though  the  sun  was  bright,  there  was  a  light  haze  in  the  atmo- 
sphere. The  distant  hills  assumed  strange,  distorted  forms,  and 
the  edge  of  the  horizon  was  continually  changing  its  aspect. 


338  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

Shaw  and  I  were  riding  together,  and  Henry  Chatillon  was 
alone,  a  few  rods  before  us  ;  he  stopped  his  horse  suddenly, 
and  turning  round  with  the  peculiar  eager  and  earnest  expres- 
sion which  he  always  wore  when  excited,  he  called  us  to  coma 
forward.  We  galloped  to  his  side.  Henry  pointed  towards 
a  black  speck  on  the  gray  swell  of  the  prairie,  apparently 
about  a  mile  off.  *  It  must  be  a  bear,'  said  he  ;  '  come,  now 
we  shall  all  have  some  sport.  Better  fun  to  fight  him  than 
to  fight  an  old  buffalo-bull  ;  grizzly  bear  so  strong  and 
smart.' 

So  we  all  galloped  forward  together,  prepared  for  a  hard 
fight ;  for  these  bears,  though  clumsy  in  appearance  and  ex- 
tremely large,  are  incredibly  fierce  and  active.  The  swell  of 
the  prairie  concealed  the  black  object  from  our  view.  Imme- 
diately after  it  appeared  again.  But  now  it  seemed  quite  near 
to  us ;  and  as  we  looked  at  it  in  astonishment,  it  suddenly 
separated  into  two  parts,  each  of  which  took  wing  and  flew 
away.  We  stopped  our  horses  and  looked  round  at  Henry, 
whose  face  exhibited  a  curious  mixture  of  mirth  and  mortifica- 
tion. His  hawk's  eye  had  been  so  completely  deceived  by  the 
peculiar  atmosphere,  that  he  had  mistaken  two  large  crows  at 
the  distance  of  fifty  rods  for  a  grizzly  bear  a  mile  off.  To  the 
journey's  end  Henry  never  heard  the  last  of  the  grizzly  bear 
with  wings. 

In  the  afternoon  we  came  to  the  foot  of  a  considerable  hill. 
As  we  ascended  it,  Rouville  began  to  ask  questions  concerning 
our  condition  and  prospects  at  home,  and  Shaw  was  edifying 
him  with  a  minute  account  of  an  imaginary  wife  and  child,  to 
which  he  listened  with  implicit  faith.  Reaching  the  top  of  the 
hill,  we  saw  the  windings  of  Horse  Creek  on  the  plains  below 


THE    LONELY    T0UR11EY.  339 

US,  and  a  little  on  the  left  we  ccaild  distinguish  the  cannp  of 
Bisonette  among  the  trees  and  copses  along  the  course  of  the 
stream.  Rouville's  face  assumed  just  then  a  most  ludicrously 
blank  expression.  We  inquired  what  was  the  matter;  when  it 
appeared  that  Bisonette  had  sent  him  from  this  place  to  Fort 
Laramie  with  the  sole  object  of  bringing  back  a  supply  of  to- 
bacco. Our  rattlebrain  friend,  from  the  time  of  his  reaching 
the  fort  up  to  the  present  moment,  had  entirely  forgotten  the 
object  of  his  journey,  and  had  ridden  a  dangerous  hundred  miles 
for  nothing.  Descending  to  Horse  Creek,  we  forded  it,  and  on 
the  opposite  bank  a  solitary  Indian  sat  on  horseback  under  a 
tree.  He  said  nothing,  but  turned  and  led  the  way  towards  the 
camp.  Bisonette  had  made  choice  of  an  admirable  position. 
The  stream,  with  its  thick  growth  of  trees,  inclosed  on  three 
sides  a  wide  green  meadow,  where  about  forty  Dahcotah 
lodges  were  pitched  in  a  circle,  and  beyond  them  half  a  dozen 
lodges  of  the  friendly  Shienne.  Bisonette  himself  lived  in  the 
Indian  manner.  Riding  up  to  his  lodge,  we  found  him  seated 
at  the  head  of  it,  surrounded  by  various  appliances  of  comfort 
not  common  on  the  prairie.  His  squaw  was  near  him,  and 
rosy  children  were  scrambling  about  in  printed-calico  gowns  ; 
Paul  Dorion  also,  wiih  his  leathery  face  and  old  white  capote, 
was  seated  in  the  lodge,  together  with  Antoine  Le  Rouge,  a 
half-breed  Pawnee,  Sibille,  a  trader,  and  several  other  white 
men. 

'  It  will  do  you  no  harm,'  said  Bisonette,  '  to  stay  here  wi*a 
us  for  a  day  or  two,  before  you  start  for  the  Pueblo.' 

We  accepted  the  invitation,  and  pitched  our  tent  on  a  rising 
ground  above  the  camp  and  close  to  the  edge  of  the  trees. 
Bisonette  soon  invited  us  to  a  feast,  and  we  suffered  abundance 


340  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

of  the  same  sort  of  attention  from  his  Indian  associates.  The 
reader  may  possibly  recollect  that  when  I  joined  the  Indian 
village,  beyond  the  Black  Hills,  1  found  that  a  few  families 
were  absent,  having  declined  to  pass  the  mountains  along  with 
the  rest.  The  Indians  in  Bisonette's  camp  consisted  of  these 
very  families,  and  many  of  them  came  to  me  that  evening  to 
inquire  after  their  relatives  and  friends.  They  were  not  a  little 
mortified  to  learn  that  while  they,  from  their  own  timidity  and 
indolence,  were  almost  in  a  starving  condition,  the  rest  of  the 
village  had  provided  their  lodges  for  the  next  season,  laid  in  a 
great  stock  of  provisions,  and  were  living  in  abundance  and 
luxury.  Bisonette's  companions  had  been  sustaining  them- 
selves for  some  time  on  wild  cherries,  which  the  squaws  pounded 
up,  slones  and  all,  and  spread  on  buffalo-robes,  to  dry  in  the 
sun  ;  they  were  then  eaten  without  farther  preparation,  or  used 
as  an  ingredient  in  various  delectable  compounds. 

On  the  next  day,  the  camp  was  in  commotion  with  a  new 
arrival.  A  single  Indian  had  come  with  his  family  the  whole 
way  from  the  Arkansas.  As  he  passed  among  the  lodges,  he 
put  on  an  expression  of  unusual  dignity  and  importance,  and 
gave  out  that  he  had  brought  great  news  to  tell  the  whites. 
Soon  after  the  squaws  had  erected  his  lodge,  he  sent  his  little 
son  to  invite  all  the  white  men,  and  all  the  more  distinguished 
Indians  to  a  feast.  The  guests  arrived  and  sat  wedged  together, 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  within  the  hot  and  suffocating  lodge.  The 
iStabber,  for  that  was  our  entertainer's  name,  had  killed  an  old 
buffalo  bull  on  his  way.  This  veteran's  boiled  tripe,  tougher 
than  leather,  formed  the  main  item  of  the  repast.  For  the  rest, 
it  consisted  of  wild  cherries  and  grease  be  iled  together  in  a 
large  copper  kettle.     The  feast  was  distributed,  and  for  a  mo- 


THE    LONELY   JOURNEY.  341 

ment  all  was  silent,  strenuous  exertion  ;  then  each  guest,  with 
one  or  two  exceptions,  however,  turned  his  wooden  dish  bottom 
upward  to  prove  that  he  had  done  full  justice  to  his  entertainer's 
hospitality.  The  Stabber  next  produced  his  chopping-board,  on 
which  he  prepared  the  mixture  for  smoking,  and  filled  several 
pipes,  which  circulated  among  the  company.  This  done,  he 
seated  himself  upright  on  his  couch,  and  began  with  much  ges- 
ticulation to  tell  his  story.  I  will  not  repeat  his  childish  jargon. 
It  was  so  entangled,  like  the  greater  part  of  an  Indian's  stories, 
with  absurd  and  contradictory  details,  that  it  was  almost  impos- 
sible to  disengage  from  it  a  single  particle  of  truth.  All  that 
we  could  gather  was  the  following : 

He  had  been  on  the  Arkansas,  and  there  he  had  seen  six 
great  war-parties  of  whites.  He  had  never  believed  before  that 
the  whole  world  contained  half  so  many  white  men.  They  all 
had  large  horses,  long  knives,  and  short  rifles,  and  some  of  them 
were  attired  alike  in  the  most  splendid  war-dresses  he  had  ever 
seen.  From  this  account  it  was  clear  that  bodies  of  dragoons 
and  perhaps  also  of  volunteer  cavalry  had  been  passing  up  the 
Arkansas.  The  Stabber  had  also  seen  a  great  many  of  the 
white  lodges  of  the  Meneaska,  drawn  by  their  long-horned  buf- 
falo. These  could  be  nothing  else  than  covered  ox-wagons 
used  no  doubt  in  transporting  stores  for  the  troops.  Soon  after, 
seeing  this,  our  host  had  met  an  Indian  who  had  lately  come 
from  among  the  Camanches.  The  latter  had  told  him  that  all 
the  Mexicans  had  gone  out  to  a  great  buffalo  hunt.  That  the 
Americans  had  hid  themselves  in  a  ravine.  When  the  Mexi- 
cans had  shot  away  all  their  arrows,  (he  Americans  had  fired 
their  guns,  raised  their  war-whoop,  rushed  out,  and  killed  them 
all.    We  could  only  infer  from  this,  that  war  had  been  declared 


'23' 


^42  rilE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OKEGON    fRAIL. 

with  Mexico,  and  a  battle  fouglit  in  whicli  the  Americans  were 
victorious.  When  some  weeks  after,  we  arrived  at  the  Pueblo, 
we  heard  of  General  Kearney's  march  up  the  Arkansas,  and 
of  General  Taylor's  victories  at  Matamoras. 

As  tlie  sun  was  setting  that  evening  a  great  crowd  gathered 
on  the  plain  by  the  side  of  our  tent,  to  try  the  speed  of  their 
horses.  These  were  of  every  shape,  size,  and  color.  Some 
came  from  California,  some  from  the  States,  some  from  among 
the  mountains,  and  some  from  the  wild  bands  of  the  prairie. 
They  were  of  every  hue,  white,  black,  red  and  gray,  or  mot- 
tled and  clouded  with  a  strange  variety  of  colors.  They  all 
had  a  wild  and  startled  look,  very  different  from  the  staid  and 
sober  aspect  of  a  well-bred  city  steed.  Those  most  noted  for 
swiftness  and  spirit  were  decorated  with  eagle  feathers  dangling 
from  their  manes  and  tails.  Fifty  or  sixty  Dahcotah  were 
present,  wrapped  from  head  to  foot  in  their  heavy  robes  of  whit- 
ened hide.  There  were  also  a  considerable  number  of  the 
Shienne,  many  of  whom  wore  gaudy  Mexican  ponchos,  swathed 
j  around  their  shoulders,  but  leaving  the  right  arm  bare.     Min- 

I  gled  among  the  crowd  of  Indians  were  a  number  of  Canadians, 

<  chiefly  in  the  employ  of  Bisonette.     Men,  whose  home  is  the 

wilderness,  and  who  love  the  camp-fire  better  than  the  domestic 
hearth.  They  are  contented  and  happy  in  the  midst  of  hard- 
ship, privation,  and  danger.  Their  cheerfulness  and  gayety  is 
irrepressible,  and  no  people  on  earth  understand  better  how  '  to 
daff  the  world  aside  and  bid  it  pass.'  Besides  these,  were  two 
or  three  half-breeds,  a  race  of  rather  extraordinary  composition, 
being  according  to  the  common  saying  half  Indian,  half  white 
man,  and  half  devil.  Antoine  Le  Rouge  was  the  most  conspic- 
uous among  them,  with  his  loose  pantaloons  and  his  fluttering 


THE    LONELY   JOURNEY.  343 

calico  shirt.  A  handkerchief  was  bound  round  his  Iiead  to 
confine  his  black  snaky  hair,  and  his  small  eyes  twinkled  be- 
neath it,  with  a  mischievous  lustre.  He  had  a  fine  cream-col- 
ored  horse  whose  speed  he  must  needs  try  along  with  the  rest. 
So  he  threw  off  the  rude  high-peaked  saddle,  and  substituting  a 
piece  of  buffalo-robe,  leaped  lightly  into  his  seat.  The  space 
was  cleared,  the  word  was  given,  and  he  and  his  Indian  rival 
darted  out  like  lightning  from  among  the  crowd,  each  stretching 
forward  over  his  horse's  neck  and  plying  his  heavy  Indian 
whip  with  might  and  main.  A  moment,  and  both  were  lost  in 
the  gloom ;  but  Antoine  soon  came  riding  back  victorious,  exult- 
ingly  patting  the  neck  of  his  quivering  and  panting  horse. 

About  midnight,  as  I  lay  asleep,  wrapped  in  a  buffalo-robe 
on  the  ground  by  the  side  of  our  cart,  Raymond  came  up  and 
woke  me.  Something  he  said  was  going  forward  which  I 
would  like  to  see.  Looking  down  into  the  camp  I  saw  on  the 
farther  side  of  it,  a  great  number  of  Indians  gathered  Ground  a 
fire,  the  bright  glare  of  which  made  them  visible  through  the 
thick  darkness ;  while  from  the  midst  of  them  proceeded  a 
loud,  measured  chant  which  would  have  killed  Paganini  out 
right,  broken  occasionally  by  a  burst  of  sharp  yells.  I  gath- 
ered the  robe  around  me,  for  the  night  was  cold,  and  walked 
down  to  the  spot.  The  dark  throng  of  Indians  was  so  dense 
that  they  almost  intercepted  the  light  of  the  flame.  As  I  was 
pusiiing  among  them  with  but  little  ceremony,  a  chief  inter- 
posed himself,  and  I  was  given  to  understand  that  a  white  man. 
must  not  approach  the  scene  of  their  solemnities  too  closely. 
By  passing  round  to  the  other  side  where  there  was  a  little 
opening  in  the  6l'owd,  I  could  see  .clearly  what  was  going  for- 
ward, without  intruding  my  unhallowed  presence  into  the  inner 


844  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

circle.  The  society  of  the  '  Strong  Hearts '  were  engaged  in 
one  of  tlicir  dances.  The  'Strong  Hearts'  are  a  warlilve  asso- 
ciation, comprising  men  of  both  the  Dahcotah  and  Shienne 
nations,  and  entirely  composed,  or  supposed  to  be  so,  of  young 
braves  of  the  highest  mettle.  Its  fundamental  principle  is  the 
admirable  one  of  never  retreating  from  any  enterprise  once 
commenced.  All  these  Indian  associations  have  a  tutelary 
spirit.  That  of  the  Strong  Hearts  is  embodied  in  the  fox,  an 
animal  which  white  men  would  hardly  have  selected  for  a  sim- 
ilar purpose,  though  his  subtle  and  cautious  character  agrees 
well  enough  with  an  Indian's  notions  of  what  is  honorable  in 
warfare.  The  dancers  were  circling  round  and  round  the  fire, 
each  figure  brightly  illumined  at  one  moment  by  the  yellow 
light,  and  at  the  next  drawn  in  blackest  shadow  as  it  passed 
between  the  flame  and  the  spectator-  They  would  imitate  with 
the  most  ludicrous  exactness  the  motions  and  the  voice  of  their 
sly  patron  the  fox.  Then  a  startling  yell  would  be  given. 
Many  other  warriors  would  leap  into  the  ring,  and  with  faces 
upturned  toward  the  starless  sky,  they  would  all  stamp,  and 
whoop,  and  brandish  their  weapons  like  so  many  frantic  devils. 
Until  the  next  afternoon  we  were  still  remaining  with  Bis- 
onette.  My  companion  and  I  with  our  three  attendants  then 
left  his  camp  for  the  Pueblo,  a  distance  of  three  hundred  miles, 
and  we  supposed  the  journey  would  occupy  about  a  fortnight. 
During  this  time  we  all  earnestly  hoped  that  we  might  not 
meet  a  single  human  being,  for  should  we  encounter  any,  they 
would  in  all  probability  be  enemies,  ferocious  robbers  and  mux- 
defers,  in  whose  eyes  our  rifles  would  be  our  only  passports. 
For  the  first  two  days  nothing  worth  mentioning  took  place. 
On  the  third  morning,  however,  an  untoward  incident  occurred. 


THE    LONELY   JOURNEY.  345 

We  were  encamped  by  the  side  of  a  little  brook  in  an  exten- 
sive hollow  of  the  plain.  Delorier  was  up  long  before  day- 
light, and  before  he  began  to  prepare  breakfast  he  turned  loose 
all  the  horses,  as  in  duty  bound.  There  was  a  cold  mist  cling- 
ing  close  to  the  ground,  and  by  the  time  the  rest  of  us  were 
awake  the  animals  were  invisible.  It  was  only  after  a  long 
and  anxious  search  that  we  could  discover  by  their  tracks  the 
direction  they  had  taken.  They  had  all  set  off  for  Fort  Lara- 
mie, following  the  guidance  of  a  mutinous  old  mule,  and 
though  many  of  them  were  hobbled,  they  had  travelled  three 
miles  before  they  could  be  overtaken  and  driven  back. 

For  the  following  two  or  thee  days,  we  were  passing  over 
an  arid  desert.  The  only  vegetation  was  a  few  tufts  of  short 
grass,  dried  and  shrivelled  by  the  heat.  There  was  an  abun- 
dance of  strange  insects  and  reptiles.  Huge  crickets,  black 
and  bottle  green,  and  wingless  grasshoppers  of  the  most  extra- 
vagant dimensions,  were  tumbling  about  our  horses'  feet,  and 
lizards  without  numbers,  were  darting  like  lightning  among  the 
tufts  of  grass.  The  most  curious  animal,  ho\Vever,  was  that 
commonly  called  the  horned-frog.  I  caught  one  of  them  and 
consigned  him  to  the  care  of  Delorier,  who  tied  him  up  in  a 
moccason.  About  a  month  after  this,  I  examined  the  prisoner's 
condition,  and  finding  him  still  lively  and  active,  I  provided 
him  with  a  cage  of  buffalo-hide,  which  was  hung  up  in  the 
cart.  In  this  manner  he  arrived  safely  at  the  settlements. 
From  thence  he  travelled  the  whole  way  to  Boston,  packed 
closely  in  a  trunk,  being  regaled  with  fresh  air  regularly  every 
night.  When  he  reached  his  destination  he  was  deposited 
under  a  glass  case,  where  he  sat  for  some  months  in  great 
tranquillity  and  composure,  alternately  dilating  and  contract- 


346  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

ing  his  white  throat  to  the  admiration  of  his  visitors.  At  length, 
one  morning  about  the  middle  of  winter,  he  gave  up  the  ghost. 
His  death  was  attributed  to  starvation,  a  very  probable  conclu- 
sion, since  for  six  months  he  had  taken  no  food  whatever, 
though  the  sympathy  of  his  juvenile  admirers  had  tempted  his 
palate  with  a  great  variety  of  delicacies.  We  found  also  ani- 
mals of  a  somewhat  larger  growth.  The  number  of  prairie 
dogs  was  absolutely  astounding.  Frequently  the  hard  and  dry 
prairie  would  be  thickly  covered,  for  many  miles  together,  with 
the  little  mounds  which  they  make  around  the  mouth  of  their 
burrows,  and  small  squeaking  voices  yelping  at  us,  as  we 
passed  along.  The  noses  of  the  inhabitants  would  be  just 
visible  at  the  mouth  of  their  holes,  but  no  sooner  was  their 
curiosity  satisfied  than  they  would  instantly  vanish.  Some  of 
the  bolder  dogs — though  in  fact  they  are  no  dogs  at  all — but 
little  marmots  rather  smaller  than  a  rabbit — would  sit  yelping 
at  us  on  the  top  of  their  mounds,  jerking  their  tails  emphati- 
cally with  every  shrill  cry  they  uttered.  As  the  danger  drew 
nearer  they  would  wheel  about,  toss  their  heels  into  the  air  and 
dive  in  a  twinkling  down  into  their  burrows.  Toward  sunset, 
and  especially  if  rain  were  threatening,  the  whole  community 
would  iTiake  their  appearance  above  ground.  We  would  see 
them  gathered  in  large  knots  around  the  burrow  of  some  favo- 
rite  citizen.  There  they  would  all  sit  erect,  their  tails  spread 
out  on  the  ground,  and  their  raws  hanging  down  before  their 
white  breasts,  chattering  and  squeaking  with  the  utmost  viva- 
city upon  some  topic  of  common  interest,  while  the  proprietor 
of  the  burrow  with  his  head  just  visible  on  the  top  of  his  mound, 
would  sit  looking  down  with  a  complacent  countenance  on  the 
enjoyment  of  his  guests.     Meanwhile,  others  would  be  running 


THE    LONELY    JOURNEY.  347 

about  from  burrow  to  burrow,  as  if  on  some  errand  of  the  last 
importance  to  their  subterranean  comnjonwealth.  The  snakes 
are  apparently  the  prairie  dog's  wors^miemies,  at  least  I  think 
too  well  of  the  latter  to  suppose  that  mey  associate  on  friendly 
terms  with  these  slimy  intruders,  who  may  be  seen  at  all 
times  basking  among  their  holes,  into  which  they  always  re- 
treat when  disturbed.  Small  owls,  with  wise  and.  grave  coun- 
tenances, also  make  their  abode  with  the  prairie  dogs,  though 
on  what  terms  they  live  together  I  could  never  ascertain.  The 
manners  and  customs,  the  political  and  domestic  economy  of 
these  little  marmots  is  worthy  of  closer  attention  tlian  one  is 
able  to  give  when  pushing  by  forced  marches  through  their 
country,  w4th  his  thoughts  engx'ossed  by  objects  of  greater  mo- 
ment. 

On  the  fifth  day  after  leaving  Bisonette's  camp,  we  saw, 
late  in  the  afternoon,  what  we  supposed  to  be  a  considerable 
stream,  but  on  our  approaching  it,  we  found  to  our  mortifica- 
tion nothing  but  a  dry  bed  of  sand,  into  which  all  the  water  had 
sunk  and  disappeared.  We  separated,  some  riding  in  one  di- 
rection and  some  in  another,  along  its  course.  Still  we  found 
no  traces  of  water,  not  even  so  much  as  a  wet  spot  in  the  sand. 
The  old  cotton- wood  trees  that  grew  along  the  bank,  lamen- 
tably abused  by  lightning  and  tempest,  were  withering  with 
the  drought,  and  on  the  dead  limbs,  at  the  summit  of  the  tallest, 
half  a  dozen  crows  were  hoarsely  cawing,  like  birds  of  evil 
omen,  as  they  were.  We  had  no  alternative  but  to  keep  on. 
There  was  no  water  nearer  than  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte, 
about  ten  miles  distant.  We  moved  forward,  angry  and  silent, 
over  a  desert  as  flat  as  the  outspread  ocean. 

The  sky  had  beer,  obscured  since  the  morning  by  thin  mists 


348         THE  CALIFORN  A  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

and  vapors,  but  now  vast  piles  of  clouds  were  gathered  together 
in  the  west.  They  rose  to  a  great  height  above  the  horizon, 
and  looking  up  toward  them,  I  distinguished  one  mass  darker 
than  the  rest,  and  of  a  peculiar  conical  form.  I  happened  to 
look  again,  and  still  could  see  it  as  before.  At  some  moments 
it  was  dimly  seen,  at  others  its  outline  was  sharp  and  distinct ; 
but  while  the  clouds  around  it  were  shifting,  changing  and 
dissolving  away,  Jt  still  towered  aloft  in  the  midst  of  them,  fixed 
and  immovable.  It  must,  thought  I,  be  the  summit  of  a 
mountain  ;  and  yet  its  height  staggered  me.  My  conclusion 
was  rigiit,  however.  It  was  Long's  Peak,  once  believed  to  be 
one  of  the  highest  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  chain,  though  more 
recent  discoveries  have  proved  the  contrary.  The  thickening 
gloom  soon  hid  it  from  view,  and  we  never  saw  it  again,  for  on 
the  following  day,  and  for  some  time  after,  the  air  was  so  full 
of  mist  that  the  view  of  distant  objects  was  entirely  intercepted. 
It  grew  very  late.  Turning  from  our  direct  course,  we 
made  for  the  river  at  its  nearest  point,  though  in  the  utter  dark- 
ness, it  was  not  easy  to  direct  our  way  with  much  precision. 
Raymond  rode  on  one  side  and  Henry  on  the  other.  We  could 
hear  each  of  them  shouting  that  he  had  come  upon  a  deep 
ravine.  We  steered  at  random  between  Scylla  and  Charybdis, 
and  soon  after  became  as  it  seemed  inextricably  involved  with 
deep  chasms  all  around  us,  while  the  darkness  was  such  that 
we  could  not  see  a  rod  in  any  direction.  We  partially  extri- 
cated  ourselves  by  scrambling,  cart  and  all,  through  a  shallow 
ravine.  We  came  next  to  a  steep  descent,  down  which  we 
plunged  without  well  knowing  what  was  at  the  bottom.  There 
was  a  great  cracking  of  sticks  and  dry  twigs.  Over  our  heads 
were  certain  large  shadowy  objects ;  and  in  front  something 


THE    LCWELY   JOURNEY.  349 

like  the  faint  gleaming  of  a  dark  sheet  of  water.  Raymond 
ran  his  horse  against  a  tree  ;  Henry  alighted,  and  feeling  on  the 
ground,  declared  that  there  was  grass  enough  for  the  horses. 
Before  taking  off  his  saddle,  each  man  led  his  own  horses  down 
to  the  water  in  the  best  way  he  could.  Then  picketing  two  or 
three"  of  the  evil-disposed,  we  turned  the  rest  loose,  and  lay 
down  among  the  dry  sticks  to  sleep.  In  the  morning  we  found 
ourselves  close  to  the  South  Fork  of  the  Platte,  on  a  spot  sur- 
rounded by  bushes  and  rank  grass.  Compensating  ourselves 
with  a  hearty  breakfast,  for  the  ill-fare  of  the  previous  night, 
we  set  forward  again  on  our  journey.  When  only  two  or  three 
rods  from  the  camp  I  saw  Shaw,  stop  his  mule,  level  his  gun, 
and  after  a  long  aim  fire  at  some  object  in  the  grass.  Delorier 
next  jumped  forward,  and  began  to  dance  about,  belaboring  the 
unseen  enemy  with  a  whip.  Then  he  stooped  down,  and  drew 
out  of  the  grass  by  the  neck  an  enormous  rattlesnake,  with  his 
head  completely  shattered  by  Shaw's  bullet.  As  Delorier  held 
ban  out  at  arm's  length  with  an  exulting  grin,  his  tail,  which 
still  kept  slowly  writhing  about,  almost  touched  the  ground  ;  and 
the  body  in  the  largest  part  was  as  thick  as  a  stout  man's  arm. 
He  had  fourteen  rattles,  but  the  end  of  his  tail  was  blunted,  as 
if  he  could  once  have  boasted  of  many  more.  From  this  time 
till  we  reached  the  Pueblo,  we  killed  at  least  four  or  five  of 
these  snakes  every  day,  as  they  lay  coiled  and  rattling  on  the 
hot  sand.  Shaw  was  the  Saint  Patrick  of  the  party,  and  when- 
ever he  or  any  one  else  killed  a  snake  he  always  pulled  off'  his 
tail  and  stored  it  away  in  his  bullet-pouch,  which  was  soon 
crammed  with  an  edifying  collection  of  rattles,  great  and  small. 
Delorier  with  his  whip  also  came  in  for  a  share  of  the  praise. 
\  day  or  two  after  this,  he  triumphantly  produced  a  small  snake 


350  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

about  a  span  and  a  half  long,  wiih  one  infant  rattle  at  the  end 
of  his  tail. 

We  forded  tho  South  Fork  of  the  Platte.  On  its  farther 
bank  were  the  trace  of  a  very  large  camp  of  Arapahoes.  The 
ashes  of  some  three  hundred  fires  were  visible  among  the 
scattered  trees,  together  with  the  remains  of  sweating  lodges, 
and  all  the  other  appurtenances  of  a  permanent  camp.  The 
place  however  had  been  for  some  months  deserted.  A  few 
miles  farther  on  we  found  more  recent  signs  of  Indians ;  the 
trail  of  two  or  three  lodges,  which  had  evidently  passed  the  day 
before,  where  every  footprint  was  perfectly  distinct  in  the  dry, 
dusty  soil.  We  noticed  in  particular  the  track  of  one  moc- 
cason,  upon  the  sole  of  which  its  economical  proprietor  had 
placed  a  large  patch.  These  signs  gave  us  but  little  uneasiness, 
as  the  number  of  the  warriors  scarcely  exceeded  that  of  our 
own  party.  At  noon  we  rested  under  the  walls  of  a  large 
fort,  built  in  these  solitudes  some  years  since,  by  M.  St.  Vrain. 
It  was  now  abandoned  and  fast  falling  into  ruin.  The  walls 
of  unbaked  bricks  were  cracked  from  top  to  bottom.  Our 
horses  recoiled  in  terror  from  the  neglected  entrance,  where  the 
heavy  gates  were  torn  from  their  hinges  and  flung  down.  The 
area  within  was  overgrown  with  weeds,  and  the  long  ranges  of 
apartments  once  occupied  by  the  motley  concourse  of  traders, 
Canadians  and  squaws,  were  now  miserably  dilapidated. 
Twelve  miles  farther  on,  near  the  spot  where  we  encamped, 
were  the  remains  of  still  another  fort,  standing  in  melancholy 
desertion  and  neglect. 

Early  on  the  following  morning  we  made  a  startling  dis- 
covery. We  passed  close  by  a  large  deserted  encampment  of 
Arapahoes.     There  were  about  fifty  fires  still  smouldering  on 


THE    LONELY   JOURNEY.  351 

the  ground,  and  it  was  evident  from  numerous  signs  that  the 
Indians  must  have  left  the  place  within  two  hours  of  our  reach- 
ing it.  Their  trail  crossed  our  own,  at  right  angles,  and  led  in 
the  direction  of  a  line  of  hills,  half  a  mile  on  our  left.  There 
were  women  and  children  in  the  party,  which  would  have 
greatly  diminished  the  danger  of  encountering  them.  Henry 
Chatillon  examined  the  encampment  and  the  trail  with  a  very 
professional  and  business-like  air. 

'  Supposing  we  had  met  them,  Henry  ?'  said  I. 

'  Why,'  said  he,  '  we  hold  out  our  hands  to  them,  and  give 
them  all  we've  got ;  they  take  away  every  thing,  and  then  1 
believe  they  no  kill  us.  Perhaps/  added  he,  looking  up  with  a 
quiet  unchanged  face,  '  perhaps  we  no  let  them  rob  us.  Maybe 
before  they  come  near,  we  have  a  chance  to  get  into  a  ravine,  or 
under  the  bank  of  the  river  ;  then,  you  know,  we  fight  them.' 

About  noon  on  that  day  we  reached  Cherry  Creek.  Here 
was  a  great  abundance  of  wild-cherries,  plums,  gooseberries, 
and  currants.  The  stream,  however,  like  most  of  the  others 
which  we  passed,  was  dried  up  with  the  heat,  and  we  had  to 
dig  holes  in  the  sand  to  find  water  for  ourselves  and  our  horses. 
Two  days  after,  we  left  the  banks  of  the  creek,  which  we  had 
been  following  for  some  time,  and  began  to  cross  the  high  divid- 
ing ridge  which  separates  the  waters  of  the  Platte  from  those 
of  the  Arkansas.  The  scenery  was  altogether  changed.  In 
place  of  the  burning  plains,  we  were  passing  now  through 
rough  and  savage  glens,  and  among  hills  crowned  with  a  dreary 
growth  of  pines.  We  encamped  among  these  solitudes  on  the 
night  of  the  sixteenth  of  August.  A  tempest  was  threatening. 
The  sun  went  down  among  volumes  of  jet-blaclc,  cloud,  edged 
with  a  bloody  red.     But  in  spite  of  these  portentous  signs,  we 


352  THE    CALIFORNIA   AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

neglected  to  put  up  the  tent,  and  being  extremely  fatigued,  lay 
down  on  the  ground  and  fell  asleep.  The  storm  broke  about 
midnight,  and  we  erected  the  tent  amid  darkness  and  con- 
fusion. In  the  morning  all  was  fair  again,  and  Pike's 
Peak,  white  with  snow,  was  towering  above  the  wilderness  afar 
off. 

We  pushed  through  an  extensive  tract  of  pine  woods. 
Large  black-squirrels  were  leaping  among  the  branches. 
From  the  farther  edge  of  this  forest  we  saw  the  prairie  again, 
hollowed  out  before  us  into  a  vast  basin,  and  about  a  mile  in 
front  we  could  discern  a  little  black  speck  moving  upon  its 
surface.  It  could  be  nothing  but  a  buffalo.  Henry  primed  his 
rifle  afresh  and  galloped  forward.  To  the  left  of  the  animal 
was  a  low  rocky  mound,  of  which  Henry  availed  himself  in 
making  his  approach.  After  a  short  time  we  heard  the  faint 
report  of  the  rifle.  The  bull,  mortally  wounded  from  a  distance 
of  nearly  three  hundred  yards,  ran  wildly  round  and  round  in 
a  circle.  Shaw  and  I  then  galloped  forward,  and  passing  him 
as  he  ran,  foaming  with  rage  and  pain,  we  discharged  our 
pistols  into  his  side.  Once  or  twice  he  rushed  furiously  upon 
us,  but  his  strength  was  rapidly  exhausted.  Down  he  fell  on 
his  knees.  For  one  instant  he  glared  up  at  his  enemies,  with 
burning  eyes,  through  his  black  tangled  mane,  and  then  rolled 
over  on  his  side.  Though  gaunt  and  thin,  he  was  larger  and 
heavier  than  the  largest  ox.  Foam  and  blood  flew  together 
from  his  nostrils  as  he  lay  bellowing  and  pawing  the  ground, 
tearing  up  grass  and  earth  with  his  hoofs.  His  sides  rose  and 
fell  like  a  vast  pair  of  bellows,  the  blood  spouting  up  in  jets 
from  the  bullet-holes.  Suddenly  his  glaring  eyes  became  like 
a  lifeless  jelly.     He  lay  motionless  on  the  ground.     Henry 


THE    LONELY   :CTTRNEY.  353 

stooped  over  him,  and  making  an  incision  with  his  knife,  pro^ 
nounced  the  meat  too  rank  and  tough  for  use  ;  so,  disappointed 
in  our  hopes  of  an  addition  to  our  stock  of  provisions,  we  rode 
away  and  left  the  carcass  to  the  wolves. 

In  the  afternoon  we  saw  the  mountains  rising  like  a  gigan- 
tic wall  at  no  great  distance  on  our  right.  *  Des  sauvages  ! 
des  sauvages  V  exclaimed  Delorier,  looking  round  with  a  fright- 
ened face,  and  pointing  with  his  whip  towards  the  foot  of  the 
mountains.  In  fact,  we  could  see  at  a  distance  a  number  of 
little  black  specks,  like  horsemen  in  rapid  motion.  Henry 
Chatillon,  with  Shaw  and  myself,  galloped  towards  them  to  re- 
connoitre, when  to  our  amusement  we  saw  the  supposed  Ara- 
pahoes  resolved  into  the  black  tops  of  some  pine-trees  which 
grew  along  a  ravine.  The  summits  of  these  pines,  just  visible 
above  the  verge  of  the  prairie,  and  seeming  to  move  as  we 
ourselves  were  advancing,  looked  exactly  like  a  line  of  horse- 
men. 

We  encamped  among  ravines  and  hollows,  through  which 
a  little  brook  was  foaming  angrily.  Before  sunrise  in  the 
morning  the  snow-covered  mountains  were  beautifully  tinged 
with  a  delicate  rose  color.  A  noble  spectacle  awaited  us  as 
we  moved  forward.  Six  or  eight  miles  on  our  right.  Pike's 
Peak  and  his  giant  brethren  rose  out  of  the  level  prairie,  as  if 
springing  from  the  bed  of  the  ocean.  From  their  summits 
down  to  the  plain  below  they  were  involved  in  a  mantle  of 
clouds,  in  restless  motion,  as  if  urged  by  strong  winds.  For 
one  instant  some  snowy  peak,  towering  in  awful  solitude,  would 
be  disclosed  to  view.  As  tJie  clouds  broke  along  the  mountam, 
we  could  see  the  dreary  forests,  the  tremendous  precipices, 
the  white  patches  of  snow,  the  gulfs  and  chasms  as  black 


354  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

as  night,  all  revealed  for  an  instant,  and  then  disappearing 
from  the  view.  One  could  not  but  recall  the  stanza  of  Childe 
Harold  : 

'  Morn  dawns,  and  with  it  stern  Albania's  hills, 
Dark  Suli's  rocks,  and  Pindus'  inland  peak, 
Robed  half  in  mist,  bedewed  with  snowy  rills, 
Array'd  in  many  a  dun  and  purple  streak. 
Arise ;  and,  as  the  clouds  alon<^  them  break, 
Disclose  the  dwelling  of  the  mountaineer : 
Here  roams  the  wolf,  the  eagle  whets  his  beak. 
Birds,  beasts  of  prey,  and  wilder  men  appear. 
And  gathering  storms  around  convulse  the  closing  year.' 

Every  line  save  one  of  this  description  was  more  than 
verified  here.  There  were  no  '  dwellings  of  the  mountaineer ' 
among  these  heights.  Fierce  savages,  restlessly  wandering 
through  summer  and  winter,  alone  invade  them.  '  Their 
hand  is  against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  against 
them.' 

On  the  day  after,  we  had  left  the  mountains  at  some 
distance.  A  black  cloud  descended  upon  them,  and  a  tre- 
mendous explosion  of  thunder  followed,  reverberating  among 
the  precipices.  In  a  few  moments  every  thing  grew  black, 
and  the  rain  poured  down  like  a  cataract.  We  got  under 
an  old  cotton-wood  tree,  which  stood  by  the  side  of  a 
stream,  and  waited  there  till  the  rage  of  the  torrent  had 
passed. 

The  clouds  opened  at  the  point  where  they  first  had 
gathered,  and  the  whole  sublime  congregation  of  mountains 
was  bathed  at  once  in  warm  sunshine.  They  seemed  more 
like  some  luxurious  vision  of  eastern  romance  than  like  a 
reality  of  that  wilderness  ;  all  were  melted  together  into  a  soft 
delicious  blue,  as  voluptuous  as  the  sky  of  Naples  or  the  trans- 


THE    LONELY    JOURNEY.  355 

parent  sea  that  washes  the  sunny  clifTs  of  Capri.  On  the  left 
the  whole  sky  was  still  of  an  inky  blackness ;  but  wo  concen- 
tric rainbows  stood  in  brilliant  relief  against  it,  while  far  in 
front  the  ragged  cloud  still  streamed  before  the  wind,  and  the 
retreating  thunder  muttered  angrily. 

Through  that  afternoon  and  the  next  morning  we  were 
passing  down  the  banks  of  the  stream,  called  '  La  Fontaine 
qui  Bouille,'  from  the  boiling  spring  whose  waters  flow  into  it. 
When  we  stopped  at  noon,  we  were  within  six  or  eight  miles 
of  the  Pueblo.  Setting  out  again,  we  found  by  the  fresh  tracks 
that  a  horseman  had  just  been  out  to  reconnoitre  us  ;  he  had 
circled  half  round  the  camp,  and  then  galloped  back  full  speed 
for  the  Pueblo.  What  made  him  so  shy  of  us  we  could  not 
conceive.  After  an  hour's  ride  we  reached  the  edge  of  a  hill, 
from  which  a  welcome  sight  greeted  us.  The  Arkansas  ran 
along  the  valley  below,  among  woods  and  groves,  and  closely 
nestled  in  the  midst  of  wide  corn-fields  and  green  meadows 
where  cattle  were  grazing,  rose  the  low  mud  walls  of  the 
Pueblo. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE     PUEBLO     AND     BENt's     FOETt 

"  It  came  to  pass,  that  when  he  did  address 
Himself  to  quit  at  length  tliis  mountain  land, 
Combined  marauders  half-way  barred  egress, 
And  wasted  far  and  near  with  glaive  and  brand." 

Childe  Harold, 

We  approached  he  gate  of  the  Pueblo.  It  was  a  wretched 
species  of  fort,  of  most  primitive  construction,  being  nothing 
more  than  a  large  square  inclosure,  surrounded  by  a  wall  of 
mud,  miserably  cracked  and  dilapidated.  The  slender  pickets 
that  surmounted  it  were  half  broken  down,  and  the  gate  dan- 
gled on  its  wooden  hinges  so  loosely,  that  to  open  or  shut  it 
seemed  likely  to  fling  it  down  altogether.  Two  or  three  squalid 
Mexicans,  with  their  broad  hats,  and  their  vile  faces  overgrown 
witn  hair,  were  lounging  about  th^  bank  of  the  river  in  front  of 
it.  They  disappeared  as  they  saw  us  approach  ;  and  as  we 
rode  up  to  the  gate,  a  light  active  little  figure  came  out  to  meet 
us.  It  was  our  old  friend  Richard.  He  had  come  from  Fort 
Laramie  on  a  trading  expedition  to  Taos ;  but  finding  when  he 


THE  PUEBLO  AND  BENT's  FORT.  357 

reached  the  Pueblo  that  the  war  would  prevent  his  going  far- 
ther, he  was  quietly  waiting  till  the  conquest  of  the  country 
should  allow  him  to  proceed.  He  seemed  to  consider  himself 
bound  to  do  the  honors  of  the  place.  Shaking  us  warmly  by 
the  hand,  he  led  the  way  into  the  area. 

Here  we  saw  his  large  Santa  Fe  wagons  standing  together. 
A  few  squaws  and  Spanish  women,  and  a  few  JMexicans,  as 
mean  and  miserable  as  the  place  itself,  were  lazily  sauntering 
about.  Richard  conducted  us  to  the  state  apartment  of  the 
Pueblo.  A  small  mud  room,  very  neatly  finished,  considering 
the  material,  and  garnished  with  a  crucifix,  a  looking-glass,  a 
picture  of  the  Virgin,  and  a  rusty  horse-pistol.  There  were 
no  chairs,  but  instead  of  them  a  number  of  chests  and  boxes 
ranged  about  the  room.  There  was  another  room  beyond,  less 
sumptuously  decorated,  and  here  three  or  four  Spanish  girls, 
one  of  them  very  pretty,  were  baking  cakes  at  a  mud  fireplace 
in  the  corner.  They  brought  out  a  poncho,  which  they  spread 
upon  the  floor  by  way  of  table-cloth.  A  supper,  which  seemed 
to  us  luxurious,  was  soon  laid  out  upon  it,  and  folded  buffalo- 
robes  were  placed  around  it  to  receive  the  guests.  Two  or 
three  Americans,  beside  ourselves,  were  present.  We  sat 
down  Turkish  fashion,  and  began  to  inquire  the  news.  Richard 
told  us  that,  about  three  weeks  before.  General  Kearney's  army 
had  left  Bent's  Fort  to  march  against  Santa  Fc  ;  that  when  last 
heard  from  they  were  approaching  the  mountainous  defiles  that 
led  to  the  city.  One  of  the  Americans  produced  a  dingy  news- 
paper, containing  an  account  of  the  battles  of  Palo  Alto  and 
Resaca  de  la  Palma.  While  we  were  discussing  these  matters, 
the  doorway  was  darkened  by  a  tall,  shambling  fellow,  who 
stood  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  taking  a  leisurely  survey  of 


u 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

the  premises  before  he  entered.  He  wore  brown  homespun 
pantaloons,  much  too  short  for  his  legs,  and  a  pistol  and  Bowie 
knife  stuck  in  his  belt.  His  head  and  one  eye  were  enveloped 
in  a  huge  bandage  of  white  linen.  Having  completed  his  ob- 
servations, he  came  slouching  in,  and  sat  down  on  a  chest. 
Eight  or  ten  more  of  the  same  stamp  followed,  and  very  coolly 
arranging  themselves  about  the  room,  began  to  stare  at  the 
company.  Shaw  and  I  looked  at  each  other.  We  were  forci- 
bly reminded  of  the  Oregon  emigrants,  though  these  unwelcome 
visitors  had  a  certain  glitter  of  the  eye,  and  a  compression  of 
the  lips,  which  distinguished  them  from  our  old  acquaintances 
of  the  prairie.  They  began  to  catechise  us  at  once,  inquiring 
whence  we  had  come,  what  we  meant  to  do  next,  and  what 
were  our  future  prospects  in  life. 

The  man  with  the  bandaged  head  had  met  with  an  untoward 
accident  a  few  days  before.  He  was  going  down  to  the  river 
to  bring  water,  and  was  pushing  through  the  young  willows 
which  covered  the  low  ground,  when  he  came  unawares  upon 
a  grizzly  bear,  which,  having  just  eaten  a  buffalo-bull,  had  lain 
down  to  sleep  off  the  meal.  The  bear  rose  on  his  hind  legs, 
and  gave  the  intruder  such  a  blow  with  his  paw  that  he  laid  his 
forehead  entirely  bare,  clawed  off  the  front  of  his  scalp,  and 
narrowly  missed  one  of  his  eyes.  Fortunately  he  was  not  in 
a  very  pugnacious  mood,  being  surfeited  with  his  late  meal. 
The  man's  companions,  who  were  close  behind,  raised  a  shout, 
and  the  bear  walked  away,  crushing  down  the  willows  in  his 
leisurely  retreat. 

These  men  belonged  to  a  party  of  Mormons,  who,  out  of  a 
well-grounded  fear  of  the  other  emigrants,  had  postponed  leav- 
ing the  settlements  until  all  the  rest  were  gone.     On  account 


THE  rUEBLO  AND  BENt's  FORT.  359 

of  this  delay  thpy  did  not  reach  Fort  Laramie  until  it  was  too 
late  to  continue  their  journey  to  California.  Hearing  that  there 
was  good  land  at  the  head  of  the  Arkansas,  they  crossed  over 
under  the  guidance  of  Richard,  and  were  now  preparing  to 
spend  the  winter  at  a  spot  about  half  a  mile  from  the  Pueblo. 

When  we  took  leave  of  Richard,  it  was  near  sunset.  Pass- 
ing out  of  the  gate,  we  could  look  down  the  little  valley  of  the 
Arkansas  ;  a  beautiful  scene,  and  doubly  so  to  our  eyes,  so  long 
accustomed  to  deserts  and  mountains.  Tall  woods  lined  the 
river,  with  green  meadows  on  either  hand ;  and  high  blulfs, 
quietly  basking  in  the  sunlight,  flanked  the  narrow  valley.  A 
Mexican  on  horseback  was  driving  a  herd  of  cattle  toward  the 
gate,  and  our  little  white  tent,  which  the  men  had  pitched  under 
a  large  tree  in  the  meadow,  made  a  very  pleasing  feature  in  the 
scene.  When  we  reached  it,  we  found  that  Richard  had  sent 
a  Mexican  to  bring  us  an  abundant  supply  of  green  corn  and 
vegetables,  and  invite  us  to  help  ourselves  to  whatever  we 
wished  from  the  fields  around  the  Pueblo. 

The  inhabitants  were  in  daily  apprehension  of  an  inroad 
from  more  formidable  consumers  than  ourselves.  Every  year, 
at  the  time  when  the  corn  begins  to  ripen,  the  Arapahoes,  to  the 
number  of  several  thousands,  come  and  encamp  around  the 
Pueblo.  The  handful  of  white  men,  who  are  entirely  at  the 
mercy  of  this  swarm  of  barbarians,  choose  to  make  a  merit  of 
necessity  ;  they  come  forward  very  cordially,  shake  them  by 
the  hand,  and  intimate  that  the  harvest  is  entirely  at  their  dis- 
posal. The  Arapahoes  take  them  at  their  word,  help  themselves 
most  liberally,  and  usually  turn  their  horses  into  the  cornfields 
afterward.     They  have  the  foresight,  however,  to  leave  enough 


860         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

of  the  crops  untouclied  to  serve  as  an  inducement  for  planting 
the  fields  again  for  tlieir  benefit,  in  the  next  spring. 

The  iiuman  race  in  this  part  of  tlie  world  is  separated  into 
three  divisions,  arranged  in  the  order  of  their  merits  :  white 
men,  Indians,  and  Mexicans ;  to  the  latter  of  whom  the  honor- 
able title  of  '  whites '  is  by  no  means  conceded. 

In  spite  of  the  warm  sunset  of  that  evening  the  next  morn- 
ing was  a  dreary  and  cheerless  one.  It  rained  steadily,  clouds 
resting  upon  the  very  tree-tops.  We  crossed  the  river  to  visit 
the  Mormon  settlement.  As  we  passed  through  the  water, 
several  ti'appers  on  horseback  entered  it  from  the  other  side. 
Their  buckskin  frocks  were  soaked  through  by  the  rain,  and 
clung  fast  to  their  Hmbs  with  a  most  clammy  and  uncomfortable 
look.  The  water  was  trickling  down  their  faces,  and  dropping 
from  the  ends  of  their  rifles  and  from  tne  traps  which  each 
carried  at  the  pommel  of  his  saddle.  Horses  and  all,  thoy  had 
a  most  disconsolate  and  wobegone  appearance,  which  we  could 
not  help  laughing  at,  forgetting  how  often  we  ourselves  had  been 
in  a  similar  plight. 

After  half  an  hour's  riding,  we  saw  the  white  wagons  of 
the  Mormons  drawn  up  among  the  trees.  Axes  were  sounding, 
trees  were  falling,  and  log-huts  going  up  along  the  edge  of  the 
woods  and  upon  the  adjoining  meadow.  As  we  came  up  the 
Mormons  left  their  work  and  seated  themselves  on  the  timber 
around  us,  when  they  began  earnestly  to  discuss  points  of  the- 
ology, complain  of  the  ill-usage  they  had  received  from  the 
'  Gentiles,'  and  sound  a  lamentation  over  the  loss  of  their 
great  temple  of  Nauvoo.  After  remaining  with  them  an  hour 
we  rode   back   to  our  camp,  happy  that  the  settlements  had 


THE  PUEBLO  AND  BENt's  FORT.  361 

been  delivered  from  the  presence  of  such  blind  and  desperate 
fanatics. 

On  the  morning  after  this  we  left  the  Pueblo  for  Bent's  Fort. 
Tiie  conduct  of  Raymond  had  lately  been  less  satisfactory  than 
before,  and  we  had  discharged  him  as  soon  as  we  arrived  at  the 
former  place  ;  so  that  the  party,  ourselves  included,  was  now 
reduced  to  four.  There  was  some  uncertainly  as  to  our  future 
course.  The  trail  between  Bent's  Fort  and  the  settlements,  a 
distance  computed  at  six  hundred  miles,  was  at  this  time  in  a 
dangerous  state  ;  for  since  the  passage  of  General  Kearney's 
army,  great  numbers  of  hostile  Indians,  chiefly  Pawnees  and 
Camanches,  had  gatliered  about  some  parts  of  it.  A  little  after 
this  time  they  became  so  numerous  and  audacious,  that  scarcely 
a  single  party,  however  large,  passed  between  the  fort  and  the 
frontier  without  some  token  of  their  hostility.  The  newspapers 
of  the  time  sufficiently  display  this  state  of  things.  Many  men 
were  killed,  and  great  numbers  of  horses  and  mules  carried  off. 
Not  long  since  I  met  with  a  gentleman,  who,  during  the  autumn, 
came  from  Santa  Fe  to  Bent's  Fort,  where  he  found  a  party  of 
seventy  men,  who  thought  themselves  too  weak  to  go  down  to 
the  settlements  alone,  and  were  waiting  there  for  a  reinforce- 
ment. Though  this  excessive  timidity  fully  proves  the  igno- 
rance and  credulity  of  the  men,  it  may  also  evince  the  state  of 
alarm  which  prevailed  in  the  country.  When  we  were  there 
in  the  month  of  August,  the  danger  had  not  become  so  great. 
There  was  nothing  very  attractive  in  the  neighborhood.  We 
supposed,  moreover,  that  we  might  wait  there  half  the  winter 
without  finding  any  party  to  go  down  with  us  ;  for  Mr.  Sublette 
and  the  others  whom  we  had  relied  upon,  had,  as  Richard  told 
us,  already  left  Bent's  Fort.     Thus  far  on  our  journey  For- 


862  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

tune  had  kindly  befriended  us.  We  resolved  therefore  to  take 
advantage  of  her  gracious  mood,  and  trustiiic;  for  a  continuance 
of  her  favors,  to  set  out  with  Henry  and  Dclorier,  and  run  the 
gauntlet  of  the  Indians  in  the  best  way  we  could. 

Bent's  Fort  stands  on  the  river,  about  seventy-five  milej 
below  the  Pueblo.  At  noon  of  the  tliird  day  we  arrived  withia 
there  or  four  miles  of  it,  pitched  our  tent  under  a  tree,  hung  our 
looking-glasses  against  its  trunk,  and  having  made  our  primitive 
toilet,  rode  toward  the  fort.  We  soon  came  in  sight  of  it,  for  it 
is  visible  from  a  considerable  distance,  standing  with  its  high 
clay  walls  in  the  midst  of  the  scorching  plains.  It  seemed  as 
i^  a  swarm  of  locusts  had  invaded  the  country.  The  grass  for 
miles  around  was  cropped  close  by  the  horses  of  General  Kear- 
ney's soldiery.  When  we  came  to  the  fort,  we  found  that  not 
only  had  the  horses  eaten  up  the  grass,  but  their  owners  had 
made  way  with  the  stores  of  the  little  trading  post ;  so  that  we 
had  great  difficulty  in  procuring  the  kw  articles  which  we  re- 
quired for  our  homeward  journey.  The  army  was  gone,  the 
life  and  bustle  passed  away,  and  the  fort  was  a  scene  of  dull 
and  lazy  tranquillity.  A  i'ew  invalid  officers  and  soldiers 
sauntered  about  the  area,  which  was  oppressively  hot ;  for  the 
glaring  sun  was  reflected  down  upon  it  fiom  the  high  white 
walls  around.  The  proprietors  were  absent,  and  we  were 
received  by  Mr.  Holt,  who  had  been  left  in  charge  of  the  fort. 
He  invited  us  to  dinner,  where,  to  our  admiration,  we  found  a 
table  laid  with  a  white  cloth,  with  castors  in  the  centre  and 
chairs  placed  around  it.  This  unwonted  repast  concluded,  we 
rode  back  to  our  camp. 

Here,  as  we  lay  smoking  round  the  fire  after  supper,  we 
■aw  through  the  dusk  three  men  approaching  from  the  direc- 


THE  PUEBLO  AND  BENT's  FORT.  363 

tion  of  the  fort.  They  rode  up  and  seated  the:  iselves  near  us 
on  the  ground.  The  foremost  was  a  tall,  well-formed  man, 
with  a  face  and  manner  such  as  inspire  confidence  at  once. 
He  wore  a  broad  hat  of  felt,  slouciiing  and  tattered,  and  the 
rest  of  his  attire  consisted  of  a  frock  and  leggins  of  buckskin, 
rubbed  with  the  yellow  clay  found  among  the  mountains.  At 
the  heel  of  one  of  his  moccasons  was  buckled  a  huge  iron  spur, 
with  a  rowel  five  or  six  inches  in  diameter.  His  horse,  whc 
stood  quietly  looking  over  his  head,  had  a  rude  Mexican  saddle 
covered  with  a  shaggy  bear  skin,  and  furnished  with  a  pair  of 
wooden  stirrups  of  most  preposterous  size.  The  next  man  was 
a  sprightly,  active  little  fellow,  about  five  feet  and  a  quarter 
high,  but  very  strong  and  compact.  His  face  was  swarthy  as  a 
Mexican's,  and  covered  with  a  close,  curly,  black  beard.  An 
old,  greasy,  calico  handkerchief  was  tied  round  his  head,  and  his 
close  buckskin  dress  was  blackened  and  polished  by  grease 
and  hard  service.  The  last  who  came  up  was  a  large,  strong 
man,  dressed  in  the  coarse  homespun  of  the  frontiers,  who 
dragged  his  long  limbs  over  the  ground  as  if  he  were  too  lazy 
for  the"effort.  He  had  a  sleepy  gray  eye,  a  retreating  chin,  an 
open  mouth  and  a  protruding  upper  lip,  which  gave  him  an  air 
of  exquisite  indolence  and  helplessness.  He  was  armed  with 
an  old  United  States  yager,  which  redoubtable  weapon,  though 
he  could  never  hit  his  mark  with  it,  he  was  accustomed  to 
cherish  as  the  very  sovereign  of  firearms. 

The  first  two  men  belonged  to  a  party  who  had  just  come 
from  California,  with  a  large  band  of  horses,  which  they  had 
disposed  of  at  Bent's  Fort.  Munroe,  the  taller  of  the  two,  was 
from  Iowa.  He  was  an  excellent  fellow,  open,  warm-hearted 
and  intelligent.      Jim  Gurney,  the  short  man,  was  a  Boston 


364  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

sailor,  wlio  liad  come  in  a  trading  vessel  to  California,  and 
taken  the  fancy  to  return  across  the  continent.  The  journey 
had  already  made  him  an  expert  '  mountain-man,'  and  he  pre- 
sented the  extraordinary  phenomenon  of  a  sailor  wlio  under- 
stood how  to  manage  a  horse.  The  third  of  our  visitors,  named 
Ellis,  was  a  Missourian,  who  had  come  out  with  a  party  of 
Oregon  emigrants,  but  having  got  as  far  as  Bridge's  Fort,  he 
had  fallen  home-sick,  or  as  Jim  averred,  love-sick, — and  Ellis 
was  just  the  man  to  be  balked  in  a  love  adventure.  He 
thought  proper  therefore  to  join  the  California  men,  and  return 
homeward  in  their  company. 

They  now  requested  that  they  might  unite  with  our  party, 
and  make  the  journey  to  the  settlements  in  company  with  us. 
We  readily  absented,  for  we  liked  the  appearance  of  the  first 
two  men,  and  were  very  glad  to  gain  so  efficient  a  reinforce- 
ment. We  told  them  to  meet  us  on  the  next  evening  at  a  spot 
on  the  river  side,  about  six  miles  below  the  Fort.  Having 
smoked  a  pipe  together,  our  new  allies  left  us,  and  wc  lay 
down  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

TETE  aOLGEjTHE  VOLUNTEER. 

"  All  me  1  what  evils  do  environ 
The  man  that  nioddles  wilii  cold  iron." 

HCDIBKASa 

The  next  morning  having  directed  Delorier  to  repa:.  With 
his  cart  to  the  place  of  meeting,  we  came  again  to  the  Fort  to 
make  some  arrangements  for  the  journey.  After  con^{:!etiog 
these  wg  sat  down  under  a  sort  of  porch,  to  smoke  with  some 
Shienne  Indians  whom  we  found  there.  In  a  few  minutes  we 
saw  an  extraordinary  little  figure  approach  us  in  a  military 
dress.  He  had  a  small,  round  countenance,  garnished  about 
the  eyes  with  the  kind  of  wrinkles  commonly  known  as  crow's 
feet,  and  surmounted  by  an  abundant  crop  of  red  curls,  with  a 
little  cap  resting  on  the  top  of  them.  Altogether,  he  had  the 
look  of  a  man  more  conversant  with  mint-juleps  and  oyster 
suppers  than  with  the  hardships  of  prairie-service.  He  came 
up  to  us  and  entreated  that  we  would  take  him  home  to  the 
settlements,  saying  that  unless  he  went  with  us  he  should  have 
to  stay  all  winter  at  the  Fort.  We  liked  our  petitioner's 
appearance  so  little,  that  we  excused  ourselves  from  complying 


366  TlIK    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

with  his  request.  At  litis  he  begged  us  so  hard  to  take  pity 
on  him,  looked  so  disconsohite  and  told  so  lamentable  a  story, 
that  at  last  we  consented,  though  not  without  many  misgivings. 

The  rugged  Anglo-Saxon  of  our  new  recruit's  real  name 
proved  utterly  unmanageable  on  the  lips  of  our  French  attend- 
ants, and  Henry  Chatillon,  after  various  abortive  attempts  to 
pronounce  it,  one  day  coolly  christened  him  Tele  Rouge,  in 
honor  of  his  red  curls.  He  had  at  different  times  been  clerk 
of  a  Mississippi  steamboat,  and  agent  in  a  trading  establish- 
ment at  Nauvoo,  besides  filling  various  other  capacities,  in  all 
of  which  he  had  seen  much  more  of  '  life '  than  was  good  for 
him.  In  the  spring,  thinking  that  a  summer's  campaign  would 
be  an  agreeable  recreation,  he  had  joined  a  company  of  St. 
Louis  volunteers. 

'  There  were  three  of  us,'  said  Tete  Rouge,  '  me  and  Bill 
Stephens  and  John  Hopkins.  We  thought  we  would  just  go 
out  with  the  army,  and  when  we  had  conquered  the  country, 
we  would  get  discharged  and  take  our  pay,  you  know,  and  go 
down  to  Mexico.  They  say  there  is  plenty  of  fun  going  on 
there.  Then  we  could  go  back  to  New-Orleans  by  way  of 
Vera  Cruz.' 

But  Tete  Rouge,  like  many  a  stouter  volunteer,  had  reck- 
oned without  his  host.  Fighting  Mexicans  was  a  less  amusing 
occupation  than  he  had  supposed,  and  his  pleasure  trip  was 
disagreeably  interrupted  by  brain  fever,  which  attacked  him 
when  about  half  way  to  Bent's  Fort.  He  jolted  along  through 
the  rest  of  the  journey  in  a  baggage-wagon.  When  they  came 
to  the  Fort  lie  was  taken  out  and  left  there,  together  with  the 
rest  of  the  sick.  Bent's  Fort  does  not  supply  the  best  accom- 
modations for  an  invalid.     Tete  Rouge's  sick  chamber  was  a 


TETE  ROUGE,  7HE  VOLUNTEER.  367 

little  mud  room,  where  he  and  a  companion,  attacked  by  the 
same  disease,  were  laid  together,  with  nothing  but  a  buffalo- 
robe  between  them  and  the  ground.  The  assistant  surgeon's 
deputy  visited  them  once  a  day  and  brought  them  each  a  huge 
dose  of  calomel,  the  only  medicine,  according  to  his  surviving 
victim,  which  he  was  acquainted  with. 

Tfete  Rouge  woke  one  morning,  and  turning  to  his  com- 
panion, saw  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  beams  above  with  the  glassy 
stave  of  a  dead  man.  At  this  the  unfortunate  volunteer  lost 
his  senses  outright.  In  spite  of  the  doctor,  however,  he  event- 
ually recovered  ;  though  between  the  brain-fever  and  the 
calomel,  his  mind,  originally  none  of  the  strongest,  was  so 
much  shaken  that  it  iiad  not  quite  recovered  its  balance  when 
we  came  to  the  Fort.  In  spite  of  the  poor  fellow's  tragic  story, 
there  was  something  so  ludicrous  in  his  appearance,  and  tlie 
whimsical  contrast  between  his  military  dress  and  his  most 
unmilitary  demeanor,  that  we  could  not  help  smiling  at  them. 
We  asked  him  if  he  had  a  gun.  He  said  they  had  taken  it 
from  him  during  his  illness,  and  he  had  not  seen  it  since ;  but 
perhaps,  he  observed,  looking  at  me  with  a  beseeching  air,  you 
will  lend  me  one  of  your  big  pistols  if  we  should  meet  with 
any  Indians.  I  next  inquired  if  he  had  a  hcjrse  ;  he  declared 
he  had  a  magnificent  one,  and  at  Shaw's  request,  a  Mexican 
led  him  in  for  inspection.  He  exhibited  the  outline  of  a  good 
horse,  but  his  eyes  were  sunk  in  the  sockets,  and  every  one  of 
his  ribs  could  be  counted.  There  were  certain  marks  too 
about  his  shoulders,  which  could  be  accounted  for  by  the 
circumstance,  that  during  T(ite  Rouge's  illness,  his  companions 
had  seized  upon  the  insulted  charger,  and  harnessed  him  to 
a   cannon  alonrj  with  the  draft    horses.      To    T6te    Rouge's 


368 


THE    CALIFORNIA    ANZ    3REG0N    TRAIL. 


astonishnr.€nt  \vc  rocommonded  hiir,  by  all  moans  to  exchange 
the  horse,  if  he  could,  for  a  mule.  Fortunately  the  people  at 
the  Fort  were  so  anxious  to  get  rid  of  him  that  they  were 
willing  to  make  some  sacrifice  to  effect  the  object,  and  he  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  a  tolerable  mule  in  exchange  for  the  broken- 
down  steed. 

A  man  soon  appeared  at  the  gate,  leading  in  the  mule  by  a 
cord  which  he  placed  in  the  hands  of  Tete  Rouge,  who  being 
somewhat  afraid  of  his  new  acquisition  tried  various  flatteries 
and  blandishments  to  induce  her  to  come  forward.  The  mule, 
knowing  that  she  was  expected  to  advance,  stopped  short  in 
consequence,  and  stood  fast  as  a  rock,  looking  straight  forward 
with  immovable  composure.  Being  stimulated  by  a  blow  from 
behind  she  consented  to  move,  and  walked  nearly  to  the  other 
side  of  the  Fori  before  she  stopped  again.  Hearing  the 
bystanders  laugh,  Tete  Rouge  plucked  up  spirit  and  tugged 
hard  at  the  rope.  The  mule  jei-ked  backward,  spun  herself 
round  and  made  a  dash  for  the  gate.  Tfite  Rouge,  who  clung 
manfully  to  the  rope,  went  whisking  through  the  air  for  a  i'ew 
rods,  when  he  let  go  and  stood  with  his  mouth  open,  staring 
after  the  mule,  who  galloped  away  over  the  prairie.  She  was 
soon  caught  and  brought  back  by  a  Mexican,  who  mounted  a 
horse  and  went  in  pursuit  of  her  with  his  lasso. 

Having  thus  displayed  h'.s  capacities  for  prairie  travelling, 
Tete  proceeded  to  supply  himself  with  provisions  for  the 
journey,  and  with  this  view  he  applied  to  a  quarter-master's 
assistant  who  was  in  the  Fort.  This  official  had  a  face  as  sour 
as  vint  gar,  being  in  a  state  of  chronic  indignation  because  he  had 
been  left  behind  the  army.  He  was  as  anxious  as  the  rest  to 
get  rid  of  Tete  Rouge.     So,  producing  a  rusty  key,  he  opened 


TETE  ROUGE,  THE  VOLUNTEER.  369 

a  low  door  which  led  to  a  half  subterranean  apartment,  into 
which  the  two  disappeared  together.  After  some  time  they 
came  out  again,  T6te  Rouge  greatly  embarrassed  by  a  multi- 
plicity of  paper  parcels  containing  the  different  articles  of  his 
forty  days'  rations.  They  were  consigned  to  the  care  of 
Delorier,  who  about  that  time  passed  by  with  the  cart  on  his 
way  to  the  appointed  place  of  meeting  with  Munroe  and  his 
companions. 

We  next  urged  T6te  Rouge  to  provide  himself,  if  he  could, 
with  a  gun.  He  accordingly  made  earnest  appeals  to  the 
charity  of  various  persons  in  the  Fort,  but  totally  without 
success,  a  circumstance  which  did  not  greatly  disturb  us,  since 
in  the  event  of  a  skirmish,  he  would  be  much  more  apt  to  do 
mischief  to  himself  or  his  friends  than  to  the  enemy.  When 
all  these  arrangements  were  completed,  we  saddled  our  horses, 
and  were  preparing  to  leave  the  Fort,  when  looking  round  we 
discovered  that  our  new  associate  was  in  fresh  trouble.  A  man 
was  holding  the  mule  for  him  in  the  middle  of  the  Fort,  while 
he  tried  to  put  the  saddle  on  her  back,  but  she  kept  stepping 
sideways  and  moving  round  and  round  in  a  circle  until  he  was 
almost  in  despair.  It  required  some  assistance  before  all  his 
difficulties  could  be  overcome.  At  length  he  clambered  into 
the  black  war-saddle  on  which  he  was  to  have  carried  terror 
into  the  ranks  of  the  Mexicans. 

'  Get  up,'  said  Tete  Rouge,  *  come  now,  go  along,  will 
you.' 

The  mule  walked  deliberately  forward  out  of  the  gate. 
Her  recent  conduct  had  inspired  him  with  so  much  awe,  that 
he  never  dared  to  touch  her  with  his  whip.  We  trotted  for- 
ward  toward  the  place  of  meeting,  but  before  we  had  gone  far, 


370  THE    CALIFORNIA    AXD    OREGON    TRAIL. 

we  saw  that  T6te  Rouge's  mule,  who  perfectly  understood  her 
rider,  had  stopped  and  was  quietly  grazing  in  spite  of  his  pro- 
testations,  at  some  distance  behind.  So  getting  behind  him, 
we  drove  him  and  the  contumacious  mule  before  us,  until  we 
could  see  through  the  twilight  the  gleaming  of  a  distant  fire. 
Munroe,  Jim  and  Ellis  were  lying  around  it ;  their  saddles, 
packs  and  weapons  were  scattered  about  and  their  horses 
picketed  near  them.  Delorier  was  there  too  with  our  little 
cart.  Another  fire  was  soon  blazing  high.  We  invited  our 
new  allies  to  take  a  cup  of  coffee  with  us.  When  both  the  others 
had  gone  over  to  their  side  of  the  camp,  Jim  Gurney  still  stood 
by  the  blaze,  puffing  hard  at  his  little  black  pipe,  as  short  and 
weather-beaten  as  himself. 

'  Well  !'  he  said,  '  here  are  eight  of  us ;  we'll  call  it  six — 
for  them  two  boobies,  Ellis  over  yonder,  and  that  new  man  of 
yours,  won't  count  for  any  thing.  We'll  get  through  well 
enough,  never  fear  for  that,  unless  .he  Camanches  happen  to 
get  foul  of  us.' 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

INDIAN      ALARMS. 

"  To  aJ]  the  sensnal  world  proclaim, 
One  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life 
,  Were  worth  an  age  without  a  name." 

Scott. 

We  began  our  journey  for  the  frontier  settlements  on  the 
twenty-seventh  of  August,  and  certainly  a  more  ragamuffin 
cavalcade  never  was  seen  on  the  banks  of  the  Upper  Arkansas. 
Of  the  large  and  fine  horses  with  which  we  had  left  the  frontier 
in  the  spring,  not  one  remained  :  we  had  supplied  their  place 
with  the  rough  breed  of  the  prairie,  as  hardy  as  mules  and 
almost  as  ugly  ;  we  had  also  with  us  a  number  of  the  latter 
detestable  animals.  In  spite  of  their  strength  and  hardihood, 
several  of  the  band  were  already  worn  down  by  hard  service 
and  hard  fare,  and  as  none  of  them  were  shod,  they  were  fast 
becoming  foot-sore.  Every  horse  and  mule  had  a  cord  of 
twisted  bull. hide  coiled  around  his  neck,  which  by  no  means 
added  to  the  beauty  of  his  appearance.  Our  saddles  and  all 
our  equipments  were  by  this  time  lamentably  worn  and  bat- 
tered, and  our  weapons  had  become  dull  and  rusty.     The  dress 


372  THE    CAL1F0RN..A    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

of  the  riders  fully  corresponded  with  the  dilapidated  furniture 
of  our  horses,  and  of  the  whole  party  none  made  a  more  dis- 
reputable appearance  than  my  friend  and  1.  Shaw  had  for 
an  upper  garment  an  old  red  flannel  shirt,  flying  open  in 
front,  and  belted  around  him  like  a  frock  ;  while  I,  in  ab- 
sence of  other  clothing,  was  attired  in  a  time-worn  suit  of 
leather. 

Thus,  happy  and  careless  as  so  many  beggars,  we  crept 
slowly  from  day  to  day  along  the  monotonous  banks  of  the 
Arkansas.  Tete  Rouge  gave  constant  trouble,  for  he  could 
never  catch  his  mule,  saddle  her,  or  indeed  do  any  thing  else 
without  assistance.  Every  day  he  had  some  new  ailment,  real 
or  imaginary,  to  complain  of.  At  one  moment  he  would  be  wo- 
begone  and  disconsolate,  and  at  the  next  he  would  be  visited 
with  a  violent  flow  of  spirits,  to  which  he  could  only  give  vent 
by  incessant  laughing,  whistling,  and  telling  stories.  When 
other  resources  failed,  we  used  to  amuse  ourselves  by  torment- 
ing him  ;  a  fair  compensation  for  the  trouble  he  cost  us.  T6te 
Rouge  rather  enjoyed  being  laughed  at,  for  he  was  an  odd 
compound  of  weakness,  eccentricity  and  good-nature.  fie 
made  a  figure  worthy  of  a  painter  as  he  paced  along  before  us, 
perched  on  the  back  of  his  mule,  and  enveloped  in  a  huge 
buffalo-robe  coat,  which  some  charitable  person  had  given  him 
at  the  fort.  This  extraordinary  garment,  which  would  have 
contained  two  men  of  his  size,  he  chose,  for  some  reason  best 
known  to  himself,  to  wear  inside  out,  and  he  never  took  it  off, 
even  in  the  hottest  weather.  It  was  fluttering  all  over  with 
seams  and  tatters,  and  the  hide  was  so  old  and  rotten  that  it 
broke  out  every  day  m  a  new  place.  Just  at  the  top  of  it  a 
large   pile  of   red   curls   was  visible,   with   his  little  cap  set 


INDIAN    ALARMS.  373 

jauntily  upon  one  side,  to  give  him  a  military  air.  His  seat  in 
the  saddle  was  no  less  remarkable  than  his  person  and  equip- 
ment. He  pressed  one  leg  close  against  his  mule's  side,  and 
thrust  the  other  out  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  His 
pantaloons  were  decorated  with  a  military  red  stripe,  of  which 
he  was  extremely  vain  ;  but  being  much  too  short,  the  whole 
length  of  his  boots  was  usually  visible  below  them.  His 
blanket,  loosely  rolled  up  into  a  large  bundle,  dangled  at  the 
back  of  his  saddle,  where  he  carried  it  tied  with  a  string. 
Four  or  five  limes  a  day  it  would  fall  to  the  ground.  Every 
few  minutes  he  would  drop  his  pipe,  his  knife,  his  flint  and 
steel,  or  a  piece  of  tobacco,  and  have  to  scramble  down  to  pick 
them  up.  In  doing  this  he  would  contrive  to  get  in  every 
body's  way  ;  and  as  the  most  of  the  party  were  by  no  means 
remarkable  for  a  fastidious  choice  of  language,  a  storm  of 
anathemas  would  be  showered  upon  him,  half  in  earnest 
and  half  in  jest,  until  ,T6te  Rouge  would  declare  that  there 
was  no  comfort  in  life,  and  that  he  never  saw  such  fellows 
before. 

Only  a  day  or  two  after  leaving  Bent's  Fort,  Henry  Cha- 
tillon  rode  forward  to  hunt,  and  took  Ellis  along  with  him. 
After  they  had  been  some  time  absent  we  saw  them  coming 
down  the  hill,  driving  three  dragoon-horses,  which  had  escaped 
from  their  owners  on  the  march,  or  perhaps  had  given  out  and 
been  abandoned.  One  of  them  was  in  tolerable  condition,  but 
the  others  were  much  emaciated  and  severely  bitten  by  the 
wolves.  Reduced  as  they  were,  we  carried  two  of  them  to  the 
settlements,  and  Henry  exchanged  the  third  with  the  Arapa- 
hoes  for  an  excellent  mule. 

On  the  day  after,  when  we  had  stopped  to  rest  at  noon,  a 


"25" 


374  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

long  train  of  Santa  Fc  wagons  came  up  and  trailed  slowly  past 
us  in  their  picturesque  procession.  They  belonged  to  a  trader 
named  Magoffin,  whose  brother,  with  a  number  of  other  men, 
came  over  and  sat  down  around  us  on  the  grass.  The  news 
tliey  brought  was  not  of  tlie  most  pleasing  complexion.  Ac- 
cording to  their  accounts,  the  trail  below  was  in  a  very  danger- 
ous state.  They  had  repeatedly  detected  Indians  prowling  at 
night  around  their  camps  ;  and  the  large  party  which  had  left 
Bent's  Fort  a  few  weeks  previous  to  our  own  departure  had 
been  attacked,  and  a  man  named  Swan,  from  Massachusetts, 
had  been  killed.  His  companions  had  buried  the  body  ;  but 
when  Magoffin  found  his  grave,  which  was  near  a  place  called 
'  The  Caches,'  the  Indians  had  dug  up  and  scalped  him,  and 
the  wolves  had  shockingly  mangled  his  remains.  As  an  offset 
to  this  intelligence,  they  gave  us  the  welcome  information  that 
the  buffalo  were  numerous  at  a  few  days'  journey  below. 

On  the  next  afternoon,  as  we  moved  along  the  bank  of  the 
river,  we  saw  the  white  tops  of  waf  ons  on  the  horizon.  It  was 
some  hours  before  we  met  them,  when  they  proved  to  be  a 
train  of  clumsy  ox-wagons,  quite  different  from  the  rakish 
vehicles  of  the  Santa  Fc  traders,  and  loaded  with  government 
stores  for  the  troops.  They  all  stopped,  and  the  drivers  gathered 
around  us  in  a  crowd.  I  thought  that  the  whole  frontier  might 
have  been  ransacked  in  vain  to  furnish  men  worse  fitted  to 
meet  the  dangers  of  the  prairie.  Many  of  them  were  mei'e 
boys,  fresh  from  the  plough,  and  devoid  of  knowledge  and 
experience.  In  respect  to  the  state  of  the  trail,  they  confirmed 
all  that  the  Santa  Fe  men  had  told  us.  In  passing  between 
the  Pawnee  Fork  and  the  Caches,  their  sentinels  had  fired 
every  night  at  real  or  imaginary  Indians.     They  said  also  that 


INDIAN   ALARMS.  375 

Ewing,  a  young  Kentuckian  in  the  party  that  had  gone  down 
before  us,  had  shot  an  Indian  who  was  prowlmg  at  evening 
about  the  camp.  Some  of  them  advised  us  to  turn  back,  and 
others  to  hasten  forward  as  fast  as  we  could ;  but  they  all 
seemed  in  such  a  state  of  feverish  anxiety,  and  so  little  capable 
of  cool  judgment,  that  we  attached  slight  weight  to  what  they 
said.  They  next  gave  us  a  more  definite  piece  of  intelligence ; 
a  large  village  of  Arapahoes  was  encamped  on  the  river  below. 
They  represented  them  to  be  quite  friendly  ;  but  some  distinc- 
tion was  to  be  made  between  a  party  of  thirty  men,  travelling 
with  oxen,  which  are  of  no  value  in  an  Indian's  eyes,  and  a 
mere  handful  like  ourselves,  with  a  tempting  band  of  mules 
and  horses.  This  story  of  the  Arapahoes  therefore  caused  us 
some  anxiety. 

Just  after  leaving  the  government  wagons,  as  Shaw  and  I 
were  riding  along  a  narrow  passage  between  the  river-bank 
and  a  rough  hill  that  pressed  close  upon  it,  we  heard  T6te 
Rouge's  voice  behind  us.  '  Hallo  !'  he  called  out  j  '  I  say, 
stop  the  cart  just  for  a  minute,  will  you  ?' 

'  What's  the  matter,  Tete  V  asked  Shaw,  as  he  came 
riding  up  to  us  with  a  grin  of  exultation.  He  had  a  bottle  of 
molasses  in  one  hand,  and  a  larga  bundle  of  hides  on  the  saddle 
before  him,  containing,  as  he  triumphantly  informed  us,  sugar, 
biscuits,  coffee  and  rice.  These  supplies  he  had  obtained  by  a 
stratagem  on  which  he  greatly  plumed  himself,  and  he  was  ex- 
tremely vexed  and  astonished  that  we  did  not  fall  in  with  his 
views  of  the  matter.  He  had  told  Coates,  the  master-wagoner, 
that  the  commissary  at  the  fort  had  given  him  an  order  for  sick- 
rations,  directed  to  the  master  of  any  government  train,  which 
he  might  meet  upon  the   road.      This   order   he   had   unfor- 


376  THE   CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

tunately  lost,  but  he  hoped  that  tlie  rations  would  not  be  refused 
on  that  account,  as  he  was  suffering  from  coarse  faro  and 
needed  them  very  much.  As  soon  as  he  came  to  camp  that 
night,  T6te  Rouge  repaired  to  the  box  at  the  back  of  the  cart, 
where  Delorier  used  to  keep  his  culinary  apparatus,  took  pos- 
session of  a  saucepan,  and  after  building  a  little  fire  of  his 
own,  set  to  work  preparing  a  meal  out  of  his  ill-gotten  booty. 
This  done,  he  seized  upon  a  tin  plate  and  spoon,  and  sat  down 
under  the  cart  to  regale  himself.  His  preliminary  repast  did 
not  at  all  prejudice  his  subsequent  exertions  at  supper  ;  where, 
in  spite  of  his  miniature  dimensions,  he  made  a  better  figure 
than  any  af  us.  Indeed,  about  this  time  his  appetite  grew 
quite  voracious.  He  began  to  thrive  wonderfully.  His  small 
body  visibly  expanded,  and  his  cheeks,  which  when  we  first 
took  him  were  rather  yellow  and  cadaverous,  now  dilated  in  a 
wonderful  manner,  and  became  ruddy  in  proportion.  Tete 
Rouge,  in  short,  began  to  appear  like  another  man. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  looking  along  the 
edge  of  the  horizon  in  front,  we  saw  that  at  one  point  it  was 
faintly  marked  with  pale  indentations,  like  the  teeth  of  a  saw. 
The  lodges  of  the  Arapahoes,  rising  between  us  and  the  sky, 
caused  this  singular  appearance.  It  wanted  still  two  or  three 
hours  of  sunset  when  we  came  opposite  their  camp.  There 
were  full  two  hundred  lodges  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  grassy 
meadow  at  some  distance  beyond  the  river,  while  for  a  mile 
around  and  on  either  bank  of  the  Arkansas  were  scattered  some 
fifteen  hundred  horses  and  mules,  grazing  together  in  bands,  or 
wandering  singly  about  the  prairie.  The  whole  were  visible  at 
once,  for  the  vast  expanse  was  unbroken  by  hills,  and  there 
was  not  a  tree  or  a  bush  to  intercept  the  view. 


INDIAN   ALARMS.  377 

Here  and  there  walked  an  Indian,  engage:  in  watching  the 
norses.  No  sooner  did  we  see  them  than  T6te  Rouge  begged 
Delorier  to  stop  the  cart  and  hand  him  liis  liille  military  jacket, 
which  was  stowed  away  there.  In  this  he  instantly  invested  him- 
self, having  for  once  laid  the  old  buffalo  coat  aside,  assumed  a  most 
martial  posture  in  the  saddle,  set  his  cap  over  his  left  eye  with 
an  air  of  defiance,  and  earnestly  entreated  that  somebody  would 
lend  him  a  gun  or  a  pistol  only  for  half  an  hour.  Being  called 
upon  to  explain  these  remarkable  proceedings,  T6te  Rouge  ob- 
served, that  he  knew  from  experience  what  effect  the  presence 
of  a  military  man  in  his  uniform  always  had  upon  the  mind  of 
an  Indian,  and  he  thought  the  Arapahoes  ought  to  know  that 
there  was  a  soldier  in  the  party. 

Meeting  Arapahoes  here  on  the  Arkansas  was  a  very  differ- 
ent thing  from  meeting  the  same  Indians  among  their  native 
mountains.  There  was  another  circumstance  in  our  favor. 
General  Kearney  had  seen  them  a  few  weeks  before,  as  he  came 
up  the  river  with  his  army,  and  renewing  his  threats  of  the 
previous  year,  he  told  them  that  if  they  ever  again  touched  the 
hair  of  a  white  man's  head  he  would  exterminate  their  nation. 
This  placed  them  for  the  time  in  an  admirable  frame  of  mind, 
and  the  effect  of  his  menaces  had  not  yet  disappeared.  I  was 
anxious  to  see  the  village  and  its  inhabitants.  We  thought  it 
also  our  best  policy  to  visit  them  openly,  as  if  unsuspicious  of 
any  hostile  design ;  and  Shaw  and  I,  with  Henry  Chatillon, 
prepared  to  cross  the  river.  Tiie  rest  of  the  party  meanwhile 
moved  forward  as  fast  as  they  could,  in  order  to  get  as  far  as 
possible  from  our  suspicious  neighbors  before  niglit  came  on. 

The  Arkansas  at  this  point,  and  for  several  hundred  miles 
below,  is  nothing  but  a  broad  sand-bed,  over  which  a  few  scanty 


378  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OKEGOX    TKAIL. 

threads  of  water  are  swiftly  gliding,  now  and  then  expanding 
into  wide  shallows.  At  several  places,  during  the  autumn,  the 
water  sinks  into  the  sand  and  disappears  altogether.  At  this 
season,  were  it  not  for  the  numerous  quicksands,  the  river  might 
be  forded  almost  any  where  without  difficulty,  though  its  chan- 
nel is  often  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide.  Our  horses  jumped  down 
the  bank,  and  wading  through  the  water,  or  galloping  freely 
over  the  hard  sand-beds,  soon  reached  the  other  side.  Here,  as 
we  were  pushing  through  the  tall  grass,  we  saw  several  Indians 
not  far  off;  one  of  them  waited  until  we  came  up,  and  stood  for 
some  moments  in  perfect  silence  before  us,  looking  at  us 
askance  with  his  little  snake-like  eyes.  Henry  explained  by 
signs  what  we  wanted,  and  the  Indian  gathering  his  buffalo-robe 
about  his  shoulders,  led  the  way  toward  the  village  without 
speaking  a  word. 

The  language  of  the  Arapahoes  is  so  difficult,  and  its  pro- 
nunciation so  harsh  and  guttural,  that  no  white  man,  it  is  said, 
has  ever  been  able  to  master  it.  Even  Maxwell  the  trader, 
who  has  been  most  among  them,  is  compelled  to  resort  to  the 
curious  sign-language  common  to  most  of  the  prairie  tribes. 
With  this  Henry  Chatillon  was  perfectly  acquainted. 

Approaching  the  village,  we  found  the  ground  all  around  it 
strewn  with  great  piles  of  waste  buffalo-meat  in  incredible 
quantities.  The  lodges  were  pitched  in  a  very  wide  circle. 
They  resembled  those  of  the  Dahcotah  in  every  thing  but 
cleanliness  and  neatness.  Passing  between  twc  of  them,  we 
entered  the  great  circular  area  of  the  camp,  and  nstantly  hun- 
dreds of  Indians,  men,  women,  and  children,  came  flocking  out 
of  their  habitations  to  look  at  us ;  at  the  same  time,  the  dogs 
all  around  the  village  set  up  a  fearful  baying.     Our  Indian 


INDIAN    ALARMS.  379 

guide  walked  toward  the  lodge  of  the  chief.  Here  f/e  dis- 
mounted ;  and  loosening  the  trail-ropes  from  our  horses  necks, 
held  them  securely,  and  sat  down  before  the  entrance,  with  our 
rifles  laid  across  our  laps.  The  chief  came  out  and  shook  us 
by  the  hand.  He  was  a  mean-looking  fellow,  very  tall,  thin- 
visaged,  and  sinewy,  like  the  rest  of  the  nation,  and  with 
scarcely  a  vestige  of  clothing.  We  had  not  been  seated  half  a 
minute  before  a  multitude  of  Indians  came  crowding  around  us 
from  every  part  of  the  village,  and  we  were  shut  in  by  a  dense  j  i 

wall  of  savage  faces.     Some  of  the  Indians  crouched  around  i  ' 

us  on  the  ground  ;   others  again  sat  behind  them  ;  others,  stoop-  i  I 

ing,  looked  over  their  heads ;  while  many  more  stood  crowded  ;  ^ 

behind,  stretching  themselves  upward,  and  peering  over  each  J  | 

other's  shoulders,  to  get  a  view  of  us.     I  looked  in  vain  among  ;  | 

this  multitude  of  faces  to  discover  one  manly  or  generous  ex-  !  ■ 

pression ;    all  were  wolfish,  sinister,  and   malignant,  and  their  I  j 

complexions,  as  well  as  their  features,  unlike  those  of  the  Dah-  i  \ 

cotah,  were  exceedingly  bad.     The  chief,  who  sat  close  to  the  j  !, 

entrance,  called  to  a  squaw  within  the  lodge,  who  soon  came  ' 

out  and  placed  a  wooden  bowl  of  meat  before  us.     To  our  sur-  | 

prise,  however,  no  pipe  was  offered.  Having  tasted  of  the 
meat  as  a  matter  of  'brm,  I  began  to  open  a  bundle  of  presents, 
tobacco,  knives,  vermilion,  and  other  articles  which  I  had 
brought  with  me.  At  this  there  was  a  grin  on  every  counte- 
nance in  the  rapacious  crowd  ;  their  eyes  began  to  glitter,  and 
long  thin  arms  were  eagerly  stretched  toward  us  on  all  sides  to 
receive  the  gifts. 

The  Arapahoes  set  great  value  upon  their  shields,  which 
they  transmit  carefully  from  father  to  son.  I  wished  to  get  one 
of  them ;  and  displaying  a  large  piece  of  scarlet  cloth,  together 


380  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OUEGON    TRAIL. 

witli  some  tobacco  and  a  knife,  I  ofTcred  tlicm  to  any  one  .vhc 
\vould  bring  me  what  I  wanted.  After  some  delay  a  tolerable 
shield  was  produced.  They  were  very  anxious  to  know  what 
we  meant  to  do  with  it,  and  Henry  told  them  that  we  were  going 
to  fight  their  enemies  the  Pawnees.  This  instantly  produced  a 
visible  impression  in  our  favor,  which  was  increased  by  the 
distribution  of  the  presents.  Among  these  was  a  large  paper 
of  awls,  a  gift  appropriate  to  the  women  ;  and  as  we  were 
anxious  to  see  the  beauties  of  the  Arapahoe  village,  Henry 
requested  that  they  might  be  called  to  receive  them.  A  war- 
rior gave  a  shout,  as  if  he  were  calling  a  pack  of  dogs  together. 
The  squaws,  young  and  old,  hags  of  eighty  and  girls  of  sixteen, 
came  running  w'ith  screams  and  laughter  out  of  the  lodges ; 
and  as  the  men  gave  way  for  them,  they  gathered  round  us  and 
stretched  out  their  arms,  grinning  with  delight,  their  native 
ugliness  considerably  enhanced  by  the  excitement  of  the  mo- 
ment. 

Mounting  our  horses,  which  during  the  whole  interview  we 
had  held  close  to  us,  we  prepared  to  leave  the  Arapahoes. 
The  crowd  fell  back  on  each  side,  and  stood  looking  on.  When 
we  were  half  across  the  camp  an  idea  occurred  to  us.  The 
Pawnees  were  probably  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Caches ; 
we  might  tell  the  Arapahoes  of  tiife,  and  instigate  them  to  send 
down  a  war-party  and  cut  them  off,  while  we  ourselves  could 
remain  behind  for  a  while  and  hunt  the  buffalo.  At  first 
thought  this  plan  of  setting  our  enemies  to  destroy  one  another 
seemed  to  us  a  master-piece  of  policy  j  but  we  immediately 
recollected  that  should  we  meet  the  Arapahoe  warriors  on  the 
river  below,  they  might  prove  quite  as  dangerous  as  the  Paw- 
nees themselves.     So  rejecting  our  plan  as  soon  as  it  presenred 


INDIAN    ALARMS.  381 

itself,  we  passed  out  of  the  village  on  the  farther  side.  We 
urged  our  horses  rapidly  through  the  tall  grass,  which  rose  to 
their  necks.  Several  Indians  were  walking  through  it  at  a  dis- 
tance, their  heads  just  visible  above  its  waving  surface.  It 
bore  a  kind  of  seed,  as  sweet  and  nutritious  as  oats ;  and  our 
hungry  horses,  in  spite  of  whip  and  rein,  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  snatching  at  this  unwonted  luxury  as  we  passed 
along.  When  about  a  mile  from  the  village,  I  turned  and 
looked  back  over  the  undulating  ocean  of  grass.  The  sun  was 
just  set  ;  the  western  sky  was  all  in  a  glow,  and  sharply  defined 
against  it,  on  the  extreme  verge  of  the  plain,  stood  the  numer- 
ous lodges  of  the  Arapahoe  camp. 

Reaching  the  bank  of  the  river,  we  followed  it  for  some 
distance  farther,  until  we  discerned  through  the  twilight  the 
white  covering  of  our  little  cart  on  the  opposite  bank.  When 
we  reached  it  we  found  a  considerable  number  of  Indians  there 
before  us.  Four  or  five  of  them  were  seated  in  a  row  upon 
the  ground,  looking  like  so  many  half-starved  vultures.  Tfite 
Rouge,  in  his  uniform,  was  holding  a  close  colloquy  with 
another  by  the  side  of  the  cart.  His  gesticulations,  his 
attempts  at  sign-making,  and  the  contortions  of  his  countenance, 
were  most  ludicrous ;  and  finding  all  these  of  no  avail,  he 
tried  to  make  the  Indian  understand  him  by  repeating  English 
words  very  loudly  and  distinctly  again  and  again.  The  Indian 
sat  with  his  eye  fixed  steadily  upon  him,  and  in  spite  of  the 
rigid  immobility  of  his  features,  it  was  clear  at  a  glance  that 
he  perfectly  understood  his  military  companion's  character  and 
thoroughly  despised  him.  The  exhibition  was  more  amusing 
than  politic,  and  Tete  Rouge  was  directed  to  finish  what 
he  had  to  say  as  soon  as  possible.     Thus  rebuked,  he  crept 


392  TIIF.    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

under  the  cart  and  sat  down  there ;  Henry  Chatillon  stooped  tc 
look  at  hiin  in  his  retirement,  and  remarked  in  his  quiet  man- 
ner that  an  Indian  would  kill  ten  such  men  and  laugh  all  the 
time. 

One  by  one  our  visitors  arose  and  stalked  awa3^  As  the 
darkness  thickened  we  were  saluted  by  dismal  sounds.  The 
wolves  are  incredibly  numerous  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
and  the  offal  around  the  Arapahoe  camp  had  drawn  such  multi- 
tudes of  them  together,  that  several  hundreds  were  howling  in 
concert  in  our  immediate  neighborhood.  There  was  an  island 
in  the  river,  or  rather  an  oasis  in  the  midst  of  the  sands  at 
about  the  distance  of  a  gun-shot,  and  here  they  seemed  gathered 
in  the  greatest  numbers.  A  horrible  discord  of  low  mournful 
wailings,  mingled  with  ferocious  howls,  ai'ose  from  it  inces- 
santly for  several  hours  after  sunset.  We  could  distinctly  see 
the  wolves  running  about  the  prairie  within  a  few  rods  of  our 
fire,  or  bounding  over  the  sand-beds  of  the  river  and  splashing 
through  the  water.  There  was  not  the  slightest  danger  to  be 
feared  from  them,  for  they  are  the  greatest  cowards  on  the 
.  prairie. 

In  respect  to  the  human  wolves  in  our  neighborhood,  we 
felt  much  less  at  our  ease.  We  seldom  erected  our  tent  except 
in  bad  weather,  and  that  night  each  man  spread  his  buffalo-robe 
upon  the  ground  with  his  loaded  rifle  laid  at  his  side  or  clasped 
in  his  arms.  Our  horses  were  picketed  so  close  around  us  that 
one  of  them  repeatedly  stepped  over  me  as  I  lay.  We  were 
not  in  the  habit  of  placing  a  guard,  but  every  man  that  niglit 
was  anxious  and  watchful ;  there  was  little  sound  sleeping  in 
camp,  and  some  one  of  the  party  was  on  his  feet  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  time.    For  myself,  I  lay  alternately  waking 


inb:an  alarms.  383 

and  dozing  until  midnight.  Tete  Rouge  was  reposing  close  to 
the  river  banlv,  and  about  this  time,  when  half  asleep  and  half 
awake,  I  was  conscious  that  he  shifted  his  position  and  croot  on 
all-fours  under  the  cart.  Soon  after  I  fell  into  a  sound  sleep 
from  which  I  was  aroused  by  a  hand  shaking  me  by  tbp 
shoulder.  Looking  up,  I  saw  Tete  Rouge  stooping  over  me 
with  his  face  quite  pale  and  his  eyes  dilated  to  their  utmost  ex 
pansion. 

'  What's  the  matter  V  said  I. 

Tete  Rouge  declared  that  as  he  lay  on  the  river  bank, 
something  caught  his  eye  which  excited  his  suspicions.  So 
creeping  under '  the  cart  for  safety's  sake,  he  sat  there  and 
watched,  when  he  saw  two  Indians,  wrapped  in  white  robes, 
creep  up  the  bank,  seize  upon  two  horses  and  lead  them  off. 
He  looked  so  frightened  and  told  his  story  in  such  a  discon- 
nected manner  that  I  did  not  believe  him,  and  was  unwilling  to 
alarm  the  party.  Still  it  might  be  true,  and  in  that  case  the 
matter  required  instant  attention.  There  would  be  no  time  for 
examination,  and  so  directing  Tete  Rouge  to  show  me  which 
way  the  Indians  had  gone,  I  took  my  rifle,  in  obedience  to  a 
thoughtless  impulse,  and  left  the  camp.  I  followed  the  river 
back  for  two  or  three  hundred  yards,  listening  and  looking 
anxiously  on  every  side.  In  the  dark  prairie  on  the  right  I 
could  discern  nothing  to  excite  alarm ;  and  m  the  dusky  bed 
of  the  river,  a  wolf  was  bounding  along  in  a  manner  which  no 
Indian  could  imitate.  I  returned  /o  the  camp,  and  when  within 
sight  of  it,  saw  that  the  whole  party  was  aroused.  Shaw  called 
out  to  me  that  he  had  counted  the  horses,  and  that  every  one 
of  them  was  in  his  place.  Tfite  Rouge  being  examined  as  to 
what  he  had  seen,  only  repeated  his  former  story  with  many 


3S4  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

asseverations,  and  insisted  tliat  two  liorses  were  certainly  carried 
off.  At  this  Jim  Gurney  declared  that  heVas  craiy  j  Tfite 
Rouge  nidignantly  denied  the  charge,  on  which  Jim  appealed 
to  us.  As  we  declined  to  give  our  judgment  on  so  delicate  a 
matter,  ine  disjiute  grew  hot  between  T6te  Rouge  and  his  ac- 
cuser, unul  he  was  directed  to  go  to  bed  and  not  alarm  the 
camp  again  if  he  saw  the  whole  Arapahoe  village  coming. 


CHAPTER    XXiV. 

THE     CHASE. 

"  Mightiest  of  all  the  beasts  of  chase, 
That  roam  in  woody  Caledon, 
Crashing  the  forest  in  his  race, 
The  monntain  Bull  comes  thundering  on." 

Cadyow  Castlb. 

The  country  before  us  was  now  thronged  with  buffalo,  and 
a  sketch  of  the  manner  of  hunting  them  will  not  be  out  of 
place.  There  are  two  methods  commonly  practised,  '  r-unning  ' 
and  '  approaching.'  The  chase  on  horseback,  which  goes  by 
the  name  of  '  running,'  is  the  more  violent  and  dashing  mode 
of  the  two.  Indeed,  of  all  American  wild  sports  this  is  the 
wildest.  Once  among  the  buffalo,  the  hunter,  unless  long  use 
nas  made  him  familiar  with  the  situation,  dashes  forward  in 
utter  recklessness  and  self-abandonment.  He  thinks  of  nothing, 
cares  for  nothing  but  the  game  ;  his  mind  is  stimulated  to  the 
highest  pitch,  yet  intensely  concentrated  on  one  object.  In  the 
midst  of  the  flying  herd,  where  the  uproar  and  the  dust  are 
thickest,  it  never  wavers  for  a  moment ;  he  drops  the  rein  and 


886  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

abandons  his  horse  to  his  furious  career ;  he  levels  his  gun, 
the  report  sounds  faint  amid  the  thunder  of  the  buffalo  ;  and 
when  his  wounded  enemy  leaps  in  vain  fury  upon  him,  his 
heart  thrills  with  a  feeling  like  the  fierce  delight  of  the  battle- 
field. A  practised  and  skilful  hunter  well  mounted,  will  some- 
times kill  five  or  six  cows  in  a  single  chase,  loading  his  gun 
again  and  again  as  his  horse  rushes  through  the  tumult.  An 
exploit  like  this  is  quite  beyond  the  capacities  of  a  novice.  In 
attacking  a  small  band  of  buffalo,  or  in  separating  a  single 
animal  from  the  hei'd  and  assailing  it  apart  from  the  rest,  there 
is  less  excitement  and  less  danger.  With  a  bold  and  well- 
trained  horse  the  hunter  may  ride  so  close  to  the  buflfalo  that  as 
they  gallop  side  by  side  he  may  reach  over  and  touch  him  with 
his  hand  ;  nor  is  there  much  danger  m  this  as  long  as  the 
buffalo's  strength  and  breath  continue  unabated  ;  but  when  he 
becomes  tired  and  can  no  longer  run  with  ease,  when  his  tongue 
lolls  out  and  the  foam  flies  from  his  jaws,  then  the  hunter  had 
better  keep  a  more  respectful  distance ;  the  distressed  brute 
may  turn  upon  him  at  any  instant ;  and  especially  at  •  the 
moment  when  he  fires  his  gun.  The  wounded  buflfalo  springs 
at  his  enemy ;  the  horse  leaps  violently  aside  ;  and  then  the 
hunter  has  need  of  a  tenacious  seat  in  the  saddle,  for  if  he  is 
thrown  to  the  ground  there  is  no  hope  for  him.  When  he  sees 
his  attack  defeated  the  buffalo  resumes  his  flight,  but  if  the  shot 
be  well  directed  he  soon  stops  ;  for  a  few  moments  he  stands  still, 
then  totters  and  falls  heavily  upon  the  prairie. 

The  chief  difficulty  in  running  buffalo,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is 
that  of  loading  the  gun  or  pistol  at  full  gallop.  Many  liunters 
for  convenience'  sake  carry  three  or  four  bullets  in  the  mouth ; 
the  powder  is  poured  dojvn  the  muzzle  of  the  piece,  the  bullet 


THE    CHASE.  387 

dropped  in  after  it,  the  stock  struck  hard  upon  the  pommel  of 
the  saddle,  and  the  work  is  done.  The  danger  of  this  method 
is  obvious.  Should  the  blow  on  the  pommel  fail  to  send  the 
bullet  home,  or  should  the  latter  in  the  act  of  aiming,  start 
from  its  place  and  roll  toward  the  muzzle,  the  gun  would  pro- 
bably burst  in  discharging.  Many  a  shattered  hand  and  worse 
casualties  beside  have  been  the  result  of  such  an  accident. 
To  obviate  it,  some  hunters  make  use  of  a  ramrod,  usually 
hung  by  a  string  from  the  neck,  but  this  materially  increases 
the  difficulty  of  loading.  The  bows  and  arrows  which  the 
Indians  use  in  running  buffalo  have  many  advantages  over  fire- 
arms, and  even  white  men  occasionally  employ  them. 

The  danger  of  the  chase  arises  not  'so  much  from  the  onset 
of  the  wounded  animal  as  from  the  nature  of  the  ground  which 
the  hunter  must  ride  over.  The  prairie  does  not  alway  present 
a  smooth,  level  and  uniform  surface ;  very  often  it  is  broken 
with  hills  and  hollows,  intersected  by  ravines,  and  in  the 
remoter  parts  studded  by  the  stiff  wild-sage  bushes.  The  most 
formidable  obstructions,  however,  are  the  burrows  of  wild 
animals,  wolves,  badgers,  and  particularly  prairie  dogs,  with 
whose  holes  the  ground  for  a  very  great  extent  is  frequently 
honey-combed.  In  the  blindness  of  the  chase  the  hunter 
rushes  over  it  unconscious  of  danger ;  his  horse,  at  full  career, 
thrusts  his  leg  deep  into  one  of  the  burrows ;  the  bone  snaps, 
the  rider  is  hurled  forward  to  the  ground  and  probably  killed. 
Yet  accidents  in  buffalo  running  happen  less  frequently  than* 
one  would  suppose ;  in  the  recklessness  of  the  chase,  the 
hunter  enjoys  all  the  impunity  of  a  drunken  man,  and  may  ride 
in  safety  over  the  gullies  and  declivities,  where,  should  he 


388  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

ttttompt  to  pass  in  his  sober  senses  he  would  infallibly  break 
his  neck. 

The  method  of  *  approaching  '  being  practised  on  foot,  has 
many  advantages  over  that  of  '  running ;'  in  the  former,  one 
neither  breaks  down  his  horse  nor  endangers  his  own  life  ; 
instead  of  yielding  to  excitement  he  must  be  cool,  collected  and 
watchful ;  he  must  understand  the  buffalo,  observe  the  features 
of  the  country  and  the  course  of  the  wind,  and  be  well  skilled 
moreover  in  using  the  rifle.  The  buffalo  are  strange  animals ; 
sometimes  they  are  so  stupid  and  infatuated  that  a  man  may 
walk  up  to  them  in  full  sight  on  the  open  prairie,,  and  even 
shoot  several  of  their  number  before  the  rest  will  think  it 
necessary  to  retreat.  Again  at  another  moment  they  will  be 
so  shy  and  wary,  that  in  order  to  approach  them  the  utmost 
skill,  experience  and  judgment  are  necessary.  Kit  Carson,  I 
believe,  stands  pre-eminent  in  running  buffalo  ;  in  approaching, 
no  man  living  can  bear  away  the  palm  from  Henry  Chatillon. 

To  resume  the  story.  After  Tete  Rouge  had  alarmed  the 
camp,  no  further  disturbance  occurred  during  the  night.  The 
Arapahoes  did  not  attempt  mischief,  or  if  they  did  the  wakeful- 
ness of  the  party  deterred  them  from  effecting  their  purpose. 
The  next  day  was  one  of  activity  and  excitement,  for  about  ten 
o'clock  the  man  in  advance  shouted  the  gladdening  cry  of  huf- 
falo,  liiffalo  !  and  in  the  hollow  of  the  prairie  just  below  us,  a 
band  of  bulls  were  grazing.  The  temptation  was  irresistible, 
and  Shaw  and  I  rode  down  upon  them.  We  were  badly 
mounted  on  our  travelling  horses,  but  by  hard  lashing  we  over- 
took them,  and  Shaw  running  alongside  of  a  bull,  shot  into  him 
both  balls  of  his  double-barrelled  gun.  Looking  round  as  I 
gallopped  past,  I  saw  the  bull  in  his  mortal  fury  rushing  again 


THE    CHASE.  38f' 

and  again  upon  his  antagonist,  whose  horse  constantly  leaped 
aside,  and  avoided  the  onset.  My  chase  was  more  protracted, 
but  at  length  I  ran  close  to  the  bull  and  killed  him  with  my 
pistols.  Cutting  off  the  tails  of  our  victims  by  way  of  trophy, 
we  rejoined  the  party  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  we 
left  it.  Again  and  again  that  morning  rang  out  the  same  wel- 
come cry  of  Ivffah,  buffalo  !  Every  few  moments  in  the  broad 
meadows  along  tho  river,  we  would  see  bands  of  bulls,  who, 
raising  their  shaggy  heads,  would  gaze  in  stupid  amazement  at 
the  approaching  horsemen,  and  then  breaking  into  a  clumsy 
gallop,  would  file  off  in  a  long  line  across  the  trail  in  front, 
toward  the  rising  prairie  on  the  left.  At  noon,  the  whole  plain 
before  us  was  alive  with  thousands  of  buffalo,  bulls,  cows,  and 
calves,  all  moving  rapidly  as  we  drew  near  j  and  far-off  beyond 
the  river  the  swelling  prairie  was  darkened  with  them  to  the 
very  horizon.  The  party  was  in  gayer  spirits  than  ever.  We 
stojiped  for  a  nooning  near  a  grove  of  trees  by  the  river  side. 

'  Tongues  and  hump-ribs  to-morrow,'  said  Shaw,  looking 
with  contempt  at  the  venison  steaks  which  Delorier  placed  be- 
fore us.  Our  meal  finished,  we  lay  down  under  a  temporary 
awning  to  sleep.  A  shout  from  Henry  Chatillon  aroused  us, 
and  we  saw  him  standing  on  the  cart-wheel,  stretching  his  tall 
figure  to  its  full  height  while  he  looked  toward  the  prairie  be- 
yond the  river.  Following  the  direction  of  his  eyes,  we  could 
clearly  distinguish  a  large  dark  object,  like  the  black  shadow 
of  a  cloud,  passing  rapidly  over  swell  after  swell  of  the  distant 
plain  ;  behind  it  followed  another  of  similar  appearance  though 
smaller.  Its  motion  was  more  rapid,  and  it  drew  closer  and 
closer  to  the  first.  It  was  the  hunters  of  the  Arapahoe  camp 
pursuing  a  band  of  buffalo.     Shaw  and  1  hastily  caught  and 


26' 


890  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

saddled  our  best  horses,  and  went  plunging  through  sand  and 
water  to  the  farther  bank.  Wc  were  too  late.  Tlic  hunters 
had  already  mingled  with  the  herd,  and  the  work  of  slaughter 
was  nearly  over.  When  we  reached  the  ground  we  found  it 
strewn  far  and  near  with  numberless  black  carcasses,  while 
the  remnants  of  the  herd,  scattered  in  all  directions,  were 
flying  away  in  terror,  and  the  Indians  still  rushing  in  pursuit. 
Many  of  the  hunters  however  remained  upon  the  spot,  and 
among  the  rest  was  our  yesterday's  acquaintance,  the  chief  of 
the  village.  He  had  alighted  by  the  side  of  a  cow,  into  wliich 
he  had  shot  five  or  six  arrows,  and  his  squaw,  who  had  followed 
him  on  horseback  to  the  hunt,  was  giving  him  a  draught  of 
water  out  of  a  canteen,  purchased  or  plundered  from  some 
volunteer  soldier.  Re-crossing  the  river,  we  overtook  the 
party  who  were  already  on  their  v/ay. 

We  had  scarcely  gone  a  mile  when  an  imposing  spectacle 
presented  itself.  From  the  river  bank  on  the  right,  away  over 
the  swelling  prairie  on  the  left,  and  in  front  as  far  as  we  could 
see,  extended  one  vast  host  of  bulliilo.  The  outskirts  of  the 
herd  were  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  In  many  parts  they 
were  crowded  so  densely  together  that  in  the  distance  their 
rounded  backs  presented  a  surface  of  uniform  blackness ;  but 
elsewhere  they  were  more  scattered,  and  from  amid  the  multi- 
tude rose  little  columns  of  dust  where  the  buffalo  were  rolling 
on  the  ground.  Here  and  there  a  great  confusion  was  percep- 
tible, where  a  battle  was  going  forward  among  the  bulls.  We 
could  distinctly  see  them  rushing  against  each  other,  and  hear 
the  clattering  of  their  horns  and  their  hoarse  bellowing.     Shaw 


I 

saw 

him 

stop 

and 

draw 

the 

leather 

-3  "i'-"  '■■•■ 
covering 

from 

his 

gun. 

HIT- 



— 





- 

THE    CHASE.  391 

Indeed,  with  such  a  sight  before  us,  but  one  thing  could  be 
thought  of.  That  morning  I  had  used  pistols  in  the  chase.  I 
had  now  a  mind  to  try  the  virtue  of  a  gun.  Delorier  had  one, 
and  I  rode  up  to  the  side  of  the  cart ;  there  he  sat  under  the 
white  covering,  biting  his  pipe  between  his  teeth  and  grinning 
with  excitement. 

*  Lend  me  your  gun,  Delorier,'  said  I. 

'  Oui,  Monsieur,  oui,'  said  Delorier,  tugging  with  might 
and  main  to  stop  the  mule,  which  seemed  obstinately  bent  on 
going  forward.  Then  every  thing  but  his  moccasons  disap- 
peared as  he  crawled  into  the  cart  and  pulled  at  the  gun  to  ex- 
tricate it. 

'  Is  it  loaded  V  I  asked. 

'  Oui,  biei  charge,  you'll  kill,  mon  bourgeois;  yes,  you'll 
kill — c'est  ui  bon  fusil.' 

I  handed  xiim  my  rifle  and  rode  forward  to  Shaw. 

'Are  you  ready?'  he  asked. 

'Come  on,'  said  I. 

'  Keep  down  that  hollow,'  said  Henry, '  and  then  they  won't 
see  you  till  you  get  close  to  them.' 

The  hollov/  was  a  kind  of  ravine  very  wide  and  shallow  ; 
it  ran  obliquely  toward  the  buffalo,  and  we  rode  at  a  canter 
along  the  bottom  until  it  became  too  shallow ;  when  we  bent 
close  to  our  horses'  necks,  and  then  finding  that  it  could  no 
longer  conceal  us,  came  out  of  it  and  rode  directly  toward  the 
herd.  It  was  within  gunshot  j  before  its  outskirts,  numerous 
grizzly  old  bulls  were  scattered,  holding  guard  over  their 
females.  They  glared  at  us  in  anger  and  astonishment,  walked 
toward  us  a  few  yards,  and  then  turning  slowly  round  retreated 
at  a  trot  which  afterwards  broke  into  a  clumsy  gallop.     In  an 


392  THE    CALIFOKNIA    AND    OKEGON    TRAIL. 

instaiit  the  main  body  caught  the  alarm.  The  buffalo  began  to 
crowd  away  from  the  point  toward  which  we  were  approaching, 
and  a  gap  was  opened  in  the  side  of  the  herd.  We  entered  it, 
still  restraining  our  excited  horses.  Every  instant  the  tumult 
was  thickening.  The  bufllilo,  pressing  together  in  large  bodies, 
crowded  away  from  us  on  every  hand.  In  front  and  on  either 
side  we  could  see  dark  columns  and  masses,  half  hidden  by 
clouds  of  dust,  rushing  along  in  terror  and  confusion,  and  hear 
the  tramp  and  clattering  of  ten  thousand  hoofs.  That  countless 
multitude  of  powerful  brutes,  ignorant  of  their  own  strength, 
were  flying  in  a  panic  from  the  approach  of  two  feeble  horse- 
men.    To  remain  quiet  longer  was  impossible. 

'  Take  that  band  on  the  left,'  said  Shaw  ;  '  I'll  take  these  in 
front.' 

He  sprang  off,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  him.  A  heavy  Indian 
whip  was  fastened  by  a  band  to  my  wrist ;  I  swung  it  into  the 
air  and  lashed  my  horse's  flank  with  all  the  strength  of  my  arm. 
Away  she  darted,  stretching  close  to  the  ground.  I  could  see 
nothing  but  a  cloud  of  dust  before  me,  but  I  knew  that  it  con- 
cealed a  band  of  many  hundreds  of  buffalo.  In  a  moment  I 
was  in  the  midst  of  the  cloud,  half  suffocated  by  the  dust  and 
stunned  by  the  trampling  of  the  flying  herd ;  but  I  was  drunk 
with  the  chase  and  cared  for  nothing  but  the  buffalo.  Very 
soon  a  long  dark  mass  became  visible,  looming  through  the  dust ; 
then  I  could  distinguish  each  bulky  carcass,  the  hoofs  fl3ang  out 
beneath,  the  short  tails  held  rigidly  erect.  In  a  moment  I  was 
so  close  that  I  could  have  touched  them  with  my  gun.  Sud- 
denly, to  my  utter  amazement,  the  hoofs  were  jerked  upward, 
the  tails  flourished  in  the  air,  and  amid  a  cloud  of  dust  the 
buffalo  seemed  to  sink  into  the  earth  before  me.     One  vivid 


b^i- 


o 

THE   CHASE.  393 

impression  of  that  instant  remains  upon  my  mind.  I  reme.-nber 
looking  down  upon  the  backs  of  several  buffalo  dimly  visible 
through  the  dust.  We  had  run  unawares  upon  a  ravine.  At 
that  moment  I  was  not  the  most  accurate  judge  of  depth  and 
width,  but  when  I  passed  it  on  my  return,  I  found  it  abouj 
twelve  feet  deep  and  not  quite  twice  as  wide  at  the  bottom.  It 
was  impossible  to  stop  ;  I  would  have  done  so  gladly  if  I  could  ', 
so,  half  sliding,  half  plunging,  down  went  the  little  mare.  1  be- 
lieve she  came  down  on  her  knees  in  the  loos^  sand  at  the  bot- 
tom ;  I  was  pitched  forward  violently  against  her  neck  and  nearly 
thrown  over  her  head  among  the  buffalo,  who  amid  dust  and 
confusion  came  tumbling  in  all  around.  The  mare  was  on  her 
feet  in  an  instant  and  scrambling  like  a  cat  up  the  opposite 
side.  I  thought  for  a  moment  that  she  would  have  fallen  back 
and  crushed  me,  but  with  a  violent  effort  she  clambered  out  and 
gained  the  hard  prairie  above.  Glancing  back  I  saw  the  huge 
head  of  a  bull  clinging  as  it  were  by  the  forefeet  at  the  edge 
of  the  dusty  gulf.  At  length  I  was  fairly  among  the  buffalo. 
They  were  less  densely  crowded  than  before,  and  I  could  see 
nothing  but  bulls,  who  always  run  at  the  rear  of  a  herd.  As  I 
passed  amid  them  they  would  lower  their  heads,  and  turning  as 
they  ran,  attempt  to  gore  my  horse  ;  but  as  they  were  already 
at  full  speed  there  was  no  force  in  their  onset,  and  as  Pauline 
ran  faster  than  they,  they  were  always  thrown  behind  her  in 
the  effort.  I  soon  began  to  distinguish  cows  amid  the  throng. 
One  just  in  front  of  me  seemed  to  my  liking,  and  I  pushed  close 
to  her  side.  Dropping  the  reins  I  fired,  holding  the  muzzle  of 
the  gun  within  a  foot  of  her  shoulder.  Quick  as  lightning  she 
sprang  at  Pauline  ;  the  little  mare  ;lodged  the  attack,  and  I  lost 

17* 


394  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

sight  of  the  wounded  aniinal  amid  tlie  tumultuous  crowd.  Im- 
mediately after,  I  selected  qmother,  and  urging  forward  Pauline, 
shot  into  her  both  pistols  in  succession.  For  a  while  I  kept  her 
in  view,  but  in  attempting  to  load  my  gun,  lost  sight  of  her  also 
in  the  confusion.  Believing  her  to  be  mortally  wounded  and 
unable  to  keep  up  with  the  herd,  I  checked  my  horse.  The 
crowd  rushed  onward.  The  dust  and  tumult  passed  away,  and 
on  the  prairie,  far  behind  the  rest,  I  saw  a  solitary  buffalo  gal- 
loping heavily.  In  a  moment  I  and  my  victim  were  running 
side  by  side.  My  firearms  were  all  empty,  and  I  had  in  my 
pouch  nothing  but  rifle  bullets,  too  large  for  the  pistols  and  too 
small  for  the  gun.  I  loaded  the  latter,  however,  but  as  often  as 
1  levelled  it  to  fire,  the  little  bullets  would  roll  out  of  the  muz- 
zle and  the  gun  returned  only  a  faint  report  like  a  squib,  as  the 
powder  harmlessly  exploded.  I  galloped  in  front  of  the  buffalo 
and  attempted  to  turn  her  back  ;  but  her  eyes  glared,  her  mane 
bristled,  and  lowering  her  head,  she  rushed  at  me  with  astonish- 
ing fierceness  and  activity.  Again  and  again  I  rode  before  her, 
and  again  and  again  she  repeated  her  furious  charge.  But 
little  Pauline  was  in  her  element.  She  dodged  her  enemy  at 
every  rush,  until  at  length  the  buffalo  stood  still,  exhausted  with 
her  own  efforts ;  she  panted,  and  her  tongue  hung  lolling  from 
her  jaws. 

Riding  to  a  little  distance,  I  alighted,  thinking  to  gather  a 
handful  of  dry  grass  to  serve  the  purpose  of  wadding,  and  load 
the  gun  at  my  leisure.  No  sooner  were  my  feet  on  the  ground 
than  the  buffalo  came  bounding  in  such  a  rage  toward  me  that 
I  jumped  back  again  into  the  saddle  with  all  possible  dispatch. 
After  waiting  a  few  minutes  more,  I  made  an  attempt  to  ride  up 


?HE    CHASE.  395 

and  stab  her  with  my  icuife ;  but  the  experiment  proved  such 
as  no  wise  man  would  repeat.  At  length,  bethinking  me  of  the 
fi'inges  at  the  seams  of  my  buckskin  pantaloons,  I  jerked  off  a 
few  of  them,  and  reloading  the  gun,  forced  them  down  the  bar- 
rel to  keep  the  bullet  in  its  place  ;  then  approaching,  I  shot  the 
wounded  buffalo  through  the  heart.  Sinking  to  her  knees,  she 
rolled  over  lifeless  on  the  prairie.  To  my  astonishment,  I  found 
that  instead  of  a  fat  cow  I  had  been  slaughtering  a  stout  year- 
ling bull.  No  longer  wondering  at  the  fierceness  he  had  shown, 
I  opened  his  throat,  and  cutting  out  his  tongue,  tied  it  at  the 
back  of  my  saddle.  My  mistake  was  one  which  a  more  expe- 
rienced eye  than  mine  might  easily  make  in  the  dust  and  con- 
fusion of  such  a  chase. 

Then  for  the  first  time  I  had  leisure  to  look  at  the  scene 
around  me.  The  prairie  in  front  was  darkened  with  the  re- 
treating multitude,  and  on  the  other  hand  the  buffalo  came  filing 
up  in  endless  unbroken  columns  from  the  low  plains  upon  the 
liver.  The  Ai'kansas  was  three  or  four  miles  distant.  I  turned 
and  moved  slowly  toward  it.  A  long  time  passed  before,  far 
down  in  the  distance,  I  distinguished  the  white  covering  of  the 
cart  and  the  little  black  specks  of  horsemen  before  and  behind 
it.  Drawing  near,  I  recognized  Shaw's  elegant  tunic,  the  red 
flannel  shirt  conspicuous  far  off.  I  overtook  the  party,  and 
asked  him  what  success  he  had  met  with.  He  had  assailed  a 
fat  cow,  shot  her  with  two  bullets,  and  mortally  wounded  her. 
But  neither  of  us  were  prepared  for  the  chase  that  afternoon, 
and  Shaw,  like  myself,  had  no  spare  bullets  in  his  pouch  ;  so 
he  abandoned  the  disabled  animal  to  Henry  Chatillon,  who  fol- 
lowed, dispatched  her  with  his  rifle,  and  loaded  his  horse  with 
her  meat. 


39G  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

We  encamped  close  to  the  river.  The  night  was  dark,  and 
as  we  lay  down,  we  could  hear  mingled  with  the  howlings  of 
wolves  the  hoarse  bellowing  of  the  buffalo,  like  the  ocean  beat- 
ing upon  a  distant  coast. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE      BUFFALO      CAMP. 

"  In  pastures  measureless  as  air, 
The  bison  is  my  noble  game." 

Bryant. 

No  one  in  the  camp  was  more  active  than  Jim  Gurney,  and 
no  one  half  so  lazy  as  Ellis.  Between  these  two  there  was  a 
great  antipathy.  Ellis  never  stirred  in  the  morning  until  lie 
was  compelled  to,  but  Jim  was  always  on  his  feet  before  day- 
break ;  and  this  morning  as  usual  the  sound  of  his  voice  awak- 
ened the  party. 

"  Get  up,  you  booby  !  up  with  you  now,  you're  fit  for  no- 
thing but  eating  and  sleeping.  Stop  your  grumbling,  and  come 
out  of  that  buffalo-robe  or  I'll  pull  it  off  for  you.' 

Jim's  words  were  interspersed  with  numerous  expletives, 
which  gave  them  great  additional  effect.  Ellis  drawled  out 
something  in  a  nasal  tone  from  among  the  folds  of  his  buffalo- 
robe  ;  then  slowly  disengaged  himself,  rose  into  a  sitting  pos- 
ture, stretched  his  long  a^ms,  yawned  hideously,  and  finally 
raising  his  tall  person  erect,  stood  staring  round  him  to  all  the 
four  quarters  of  the  horizon.     Delorier's  fire  was  soon  blazingj 


398  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

and  the  horses  and  mules,  loosened  from  their  pickets,  were 
feeding  on  the  neighboring  meadow.  When  we  sat  down  to 
breakfast  the  prairie  was  still  in  the  dusky  light  of  morning ; 
and  as  the  sun  rose  we  were  mounted  and  on  our  way  again. 

'  A  white  buffalo  !'  exclaimed  Munroe. 

'  I'll  have  that  fellow,'  said  Sliaw,  '  if  I  run  my  horse  to 
death  after  him.' 

He  threw  the  cover  of  his  gun  to  Delorier  and  galloped  out 
upon  the  prairie. 

'  Stop,  Mr.  Shaw,  stop  !'  called  out  Henry  Chatillon,  <  you'll 
run  down  your  horse  for  nothing  ;  it's  only  a  white  ox.' 

But  Shaw  was  already  out  of  hearing.  The  ox,  who  had 
no  doubt  strayed  away  from  some  of  the  government  wagon 
trains,  was  standing  beneath  some  low  hills  which  bounded  the 
plain  in  the  distance.  Not  far  from  him  a  band  of  veritable 
buffalo  bulls  were  grazing  ;  and  startled  at  Shaw's  approach, 
-  they  all  broke  into  a  run,  and  went  scrambling  up  the  hillsides 
to  gain  the  high  prairie  above.  One  of  them  in  his  haste  and 
terror  involved  himself  in  a  fatal  catastrophe.  Along  the  foot 
of  the  hills  was  a  narrow  strip  of  deep  marshy  soil,  into  which 
the  bull  plunged  and  hopelessly  entangled  himself.  We  all 
rode  up  to  the  spot.  The  huge  carcass  was  half  sunk  in  the 
mud  which  flowed  to  his  very  chin,  and  his  shaggy  mane  was 
outspread  upon  the  surface.  As  we  came  near  the  bull  began 
to  struggle  with  convulsive  strength  ;  he  writhed  to  and  fro, 
and  in  the  energy  of  his  fright  and  desperation  would  lift 
himself  for  a  moment  half  out  of  the  slough,  while  the  reluc- 
tant mire  returned  a  sucking  sound  as  he  strained  to  drag  his 
limbs  from  its  tenacious  depths.  We  stimulated  his  exertions 
by  getting  behind  him  and  twisting  his  tail ;  nothing  would  do. 


THE    BUFFALO    CAMP.  399 

There  was  clearly  no  hope  tor  him.  After  every  effort  his 
heavinir  sides  were  more  deeply  imbedded  and  the  mire  almost 
overflovved  his  nostrils ;  he  lay  still  at  length,  and  looking 
round  at  us  witli  a  furious  eye,  seemed  to  resign  himself  to  his 
fate.  Ellis  slowly  dismounted,  and  deliberately  levelling  his 
boasted  yager,  shot  the  old  bull  through  the  heart ;  then  he 
lazily  climbed  back  again  to  his  seat,  pluming  himself  no 
doubt  on  having  actually  killed  a  buffalo.  That  day  the  invin- 
cible yager  drew  blood  for  the  first  and  last  time  during  the 
whole  journey. 

The  morning  was  a  bright  and  gay  one,  and  the  air  so  clear 
that  on  the  farthest  horizon  the  outline  of  the  pale  blue  prairie 
was  sharply  drawn  against  the  sky.  Shaw  felt  in  the  mood  for 
hunting  ;  he  rode  in  advance  of  the  party,  and  before  long  we 
saw  a  file  of  bulls  galloping  at  full  speed  upon  a  vast  green 
swell  of  the  prairie  at  some  distance  in  front.  Shavv  came 
scouring  along  behind  them,  arrayed  in  his  red  shirt,  which 
loolced  very  well  in  the  distance  ;  he  gained  fast  on  the  fugitives, 
and  as  the  foremost  bull  was  disappearing  behind  the  summit 
of  the  swell,  we  saw  him  in  the  act  of  assailing  the  hindmost ; 
a  smoke  sprang  from  the  muzzle  of  his  gun,  and  floated  away 
before  the  wind  like  a  little  white  cloud  ;  the  bull  turned  upon 
nim,  and  just  then  the  rising  ground  concealed  them  both  from 
view. 

We  were  moving  forward  until  about  noon,  when  we  stopped 
by  the  side  of  the  Arkansas.  At  that  moment  Shaw  appeared 
riding  slowly  down  the  side  of  a  distant  hill ;  his  horse  was 
tired  and  jaded,  and  when  he  threw  his  saddle  upon  the  ground, 
I  observed  that  the  tails  of  two  bulls  were  dandling  behind  it. 
No  sooner  were  the  horses  turned  loose  to  feed   than  Henry 


400 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 


asking  Munroe  to  go  with  liim,  took  his  rifle  and  walked  quietly 
away.  Shaw,  T6te  Rouge  and  I,  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the 
cart  to  discuss  the  dinner  which  Delorier  placed  before  us  ;  we 
had  scarcely  finished  when  we  saw  Munroe  walking  towards 
us  along  the  river  bank.  Henry,  he  said,  had  killed  four  fat 
cows,  and  had  sent  him  back  for  horses  to  bring  in  the  meat. 
Shaw  took  a  horse  for  himself  and  another  for  Henry,  and  he 
and  Munroe  left  the  camp  together.  After  a  short  absence  all 
three  of  them  came  back,  their  horses  loaded  with  the  choicest 
parts  of  the  meat ;  we  kept  two  of  tlie  cows  for  ourselves  and 
gave  the  others  to  Munroe  and  his  companions.  Delorier  seated 
himself  on  the  grass  before  the  pile  of  meat,  and  worked  indus- 
triously for  some  time  to  cut  it  into  thin  broad  sheets  for 
drying.  This  is  no  easy  matter,  but  Delorier  had  all  the  skill 
of  an  Indian  squaw.  Long  before  night,  cords  of  raw  hide 
were  stretched  around  the  camp,  and  the  meat  was  hung  upon 
them  to  dry  in  the  sunshine  and  pure  air  of  the  prairie.  Our 
California  companions  were  less  successful  at  the  work  ;  but 
they  accomplished  it  after  their  own  fashion,  and  their  side 
of  the  camp  was  soon  garnished  in  the  same  manner  as  our 
own. 

We  meant  to  remain  at  this  place  long  enough  to  prepare 
provisions  for  our  journey  to  the  frontier,  which  as  we  supposed 
might  occupy  about  a  month.  Had  the  distance  been  twice 
as  great  and  the  party  ten  times  as  large,  the  unerring  rifle  of 
Henry  Chatillon  would  have  supplied  meat  enough  for  the  whole 
within  two  days ;  we  were  obliged  to  remain,  however,  until  it 
should  be  dry  enough  for  transportation  ;  so  we  erected  our  tent 
and  made  the  other  arrangements  for  a  permanent  camp.  The 
California  men,  who  had  no  such  shelter,  contented  themselves 


THE    BUFFALO    CAMP. 


401 


with  arranging  their  packs  on  the  grass  around  their  fire.     In 
the  meantime  we  had  nothing  to  do  but  amuse  ourselves.    Our 
tent  was  within  a  rod  of  the  river,  if  the  broad  sand-beds,  with 
a  scanty  stream  of  water  coursing  here  and  there  along  their 
surface,  deserve  to  be  dignified  with  the  name  of  river.     The 
vast  flat  plains  on  either  side  were  almost  on  a  level  with  the 
sand-beds,   and  they  were  bounded   in   the  distance  by  low, 
monotonous  hills,  parallel  to  the  course  of  the  Arkansas.     All 
was  one    expanse  of   grass ;    there    was   no  wood    in    view, 
except  some  trees  and  stunted  bushes  upon  two  islands  which 
rose  from  amid  the  wet  sands  of  the  river.     Yet  far  from  being 
dull  and  tame  this  boundless  scene  was  often  a  wild  and  ani- 
mated one  ;  for  twice  a  day,  at  sunrise  and  at  noon,  the  buffalo 
came  issuing  from  the  hills,  slowly  advancing  in  their  grave 
processions  to  drink  at  the  river.     All  our  amusements  were  to 
be  at  their  expense.     Except    an   elephant,  I    have  seen   no 
animal  that  can  surpass  a  buffalo  bull  in  size  and  strength,  and 
the  world  may  be  searched  in  vain  to  find  any  thing  of  a  more 
ugly  and  ferocious  aspect.     At  first  sight  of  him  every  feeling 
of  sympathy  vanishes  ;  no  man  who  has  not  experienced  it,  can 
understand  with  what  keen  relish  one  inflicts  his  death  wound, 
with  what  profound  contentment  of  mind  he  beholds  him  fall. 
The  cows  are  much  smaller  and  of  a  gentler  appearance,  as 
becomes  their  sex.     While  in  this  camp  we  forebore  to  attack 
them,  leaving  to  Henry  Chatillon,  who  could  better  judge  their 
fatness  and  good  quality,  the  task  of  killing  such  as  we  wanted 
for  use  ;  but  against  the  bulls  we  waged  an  unrelenting  war. 
Thousands  of  them  might  be  slaughtered  whhout  causing  any 
detriment  to  the  species,  for  their  numbers  greatly  exceed  those 
of  the  cows  ;  it  is  the  hides  of  the  latter  alone  which  are  used 


402         7HE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

for  the  purpose  of  commerce  and  for  making  the  lodges  of  the 
Indians  ;  and  the  destruction  among  them  is  therefore  altogether 
disproportioned. 

Our  horses  were  tired,  and  we  now  usually  hunted  on  foot. 
The  wide,  flat  sand-beds  of  the  Arkansas,  as  the  reader  will 
remember,  lay  close  by  the  side  of  our  camp.  While  we  were 
lying  on  the  grass  after  dinner,  smoking,  conversing,  or  laugh- 
ing at  T6te  Rouge,  one  of  us  would  look  up  and  observe,  far 
out  on  the  plains  beyond  the  river,  certain  black  objects  slowly 
approaching.  He  would  inhale  a  parting  whiff  from  the  pipe, 
then  rising  lazily,  take  his  rifle,  which  leaned  against  the  cart, 
throw  over  his  shoulder  the  strap  of  his  pouch  and  powder- 
horn,  and  with  his  moccasons  in  his  hand,  walk  quietly  across 
the  sand  toward  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  This  was  very 
easy  ;  for  though  the  sands  were  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
wide,  the  water  was  nowhere  more  than  two  feet  deep.  The 
farther  bank  was  about  four  or  five  feet  high,  and  quite  per- 
pendicular, being  cut  away  by  the  water  in  spring.  Tall 
grass  grew  along  its  edge.  Putting  it  aside  with  his  hand,  and 
cautiously  looking  through  it,  the  hunter  can  discern  the  huge 
shaggy  back  of  the  buffalo  slowly  swaying  to  and  fro,  as,  with 
his  clumsy  swinging  gait,  he  advances  towards  the  water.  The 
buffalo  have  regular  paths  by  which  they  come  down  to  drink. 
Seeing  at  a  glance  along  which  of  these  his  intended  victim  is 
moving,  the  hunter  crouches  under  the  bank  within  fifteen  or 
twenty  yards,  it  may  be,  of  the  point  where  the  path  enters  the 
river.  Here  he  sits  down  quietly  on  the  sand.  Listening 
intently,  he  hears  the  heavy  monotonous  tread  of  the  approach- 
ing bull.  The  moment  after,  he  sees  a  motion  among  the 
long  weeds  and  grass  just  at  the  spot  where  the  path  is  chan- 


THE    BUFFALO    CAMP.  403 

nelled  through  the  bank.  An  enormous  black  head  is  thrust 
out,  the  horns  just  visible  amid  the  mass  of  tangled  mane. 
Half  sliding,  half  plunging,  down  comes  the  buffalo  upon  the 
river-bed  below.  He  steps  out  in  full  sight  upon  the  sands. 
Just  before  him  a  runnel  of  water  is  gliding,  and  he  bends  his 
head  to  drink.  You  may  hear  the  water  as  it  gurgles  down  his 
capacious  throat.  He  raises  his  head,  and  the  drops  trickle 
from  his  wet  beard.  He  stands  with  an  air  of  stupid  abstrac- 
tion, unconscious  of  the  lurking  danger.  Noiselessly  the 
hunter  cocks  his  rifle.  As  he  sits  upon  the  sand,  his  knee  is 
raised,  and  his  elbow  rests  upon  it,  that  he  may  level  his  heavy 
weapon  with  a  steadier  aim.  The  stock  is  at  his  shoulder ;  his 
eye  ranges  along  the  barreL  Still  he  is  in  no  haste  to  fire. 
The  bull,  with  slow  deliberation,  begins  his  march  over  the 
sands  to  the  other  side.  He  advances  his  fore-leg,  and  exposes 
to  view  a  small  spot,  denuded  of  hair,  just  behind  the  point  of 
his  shoulder  ;  upon  this  the  hunter  brings  the  sight  of  his  rifle 
to  bear  ;  lightly  and  delicately  his  finger  presses  upon  the  hair- 
trigger.  Quick  as  thought  the  spiteful  crack  of  the  rifle 
responds  to  his  slight  touch,  and  instantly  in  the  middle  of  the 
bare  spot  appears  a  small  red  dot.  The  buffalo  shivers ;  death 
has  overtaken  him,  he  cannot  tell  from  whence  ;  still  he  does 
not  fall,  but  walks  heavily  forward,  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
Yet  before  he  has  advanced  far  out  upon  the  sand,  you  see  him 
stop  ;  he  totters ;  his  knees  bend  under  him,  and  his  head  sinks 
forward  to  the  ground.  Then  liis  whole  vast  bulk  sways  to 
one  side ;  he  rolls  over  on  the  sand,  and  dies  with  a  scarcely 
perceptible  struggle. 

Waylaying  the  buffalo  in  this  manner,  and  shooting  them 
as  they  come  to  water,  is  the  easiest  and  laziest  method  of  hunt- 


404  THE    CALIFORNIA   AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

ing  them.     They  may  also  be  approached  by  crawling  up  ra- 
vines, or  behind  hills,  or  even  over  the  open  prairie.     This  is 
often  surprisingly  easy  ;  but  at  other  times  it  requires  the  ut- 
most skill  of  tlie  most  experienced  hunter.     Henry  Chatillon 
was  a  man  of  extraordinary  strength  and    hardihood  ;    but  I 
have  seen  him  return  to  camp  quite  exhausted  with  his  efforts, 
his  limbs  scratched  and  wounded,  and  his  buckskin  dress  stuck 
full  of  the  thorns  of  the  prickly-pear,  among  which  he  had 
been  crawling.     Sometimes  he  would  lay  flat  upon  his  face, 
and  drag  himself  along  in  this  position  for  many  rods  together. 
On  the  second  day  of  our  stay  at  this  place,  Henry  went 
out  for  an  afternoon  hunt.     Shaw  and  I  remained  in  camp, 
until,  observing   some  bulls  approaching   the  water  upon  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  we  crossed  over  to  attack  them.     They 
were  so  near,  however,  that  before  we  could  get  under  cover 
of  the  bank  our    appearance  as  we  walked   over   the   sands 
alarmed    them.      Turning  round   before  coming  within   gun- 
shot, they  began  to  move  off  to  the  right  in  a  direction  parallel 
to   the    river-     I  climbed  up  the    bank    and   ran  after  them. 
They  were  walking  swiftly,  and  before  I  could  come  within 
gun-shot  distance  they  slowly  wheeled  about  and  faced  toward 
me.     Before  they  had  turned  far  enough  to  see  me  I  had  fallen 
flat  on  my  face.     For  a  moment  they  stood  and  stared  at  the 
strange  object  upon  the  grass  ;  then  turning  away,  again  they 
walked  on  as  before ;  and  I,  rising  immediately,  ran  once  more 
in  pursuit.     Again  they  wheeled  about,  and  again  I  fell  pros- 
trate.    Repeating  this  three  or  four  times,  I   came   at  length 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  fugitives,  and  as       saw  them 
turning  again  I  sat  down  and  levelled  my  rifle.     The  one  in 
the  centre  was  the  largest  I  had  ever  seen.     I  shot  him  behind 


THE    BUFFALO    CAMP.  405 

the  shoulder.  Flis  two  companions  ran  off.  He  attempted  to 
follow,  but  soon  came  to  a  stand,  and  at  length  lay  down  as 
quietly  as  an  ox  chewing  the  cud.  Cautiously  approaching 
hun,  I  saw  by  his  dull  and  jelly-like  eye  that  he  was  dead. 

When  I  began  the  chase,  the  prairie  was  almost  tenantless ; 
but  a  great  multitude  of  buffalo  had  suddenly  thronged  upon  it, 
and  looking  up,  I  saw  within  fifty  rods  a  heavy,  dark  column 
stretching  to  the  right  and  left  as  far  as  I  could  see.  I  walked 
toward  them.  My  approach  did  not  alarm  them  in  the  least. 
The  column  itself  consisted  almost  entirely  of  cows  and  calves, 
but  a  great  many  old  bulls  were  ranging  about  the  prairie  on 
its  flank,  and  as  I  drew  near  they  faced  toward  me  with  such 
a  shaggy  and  ferocious  look  that  I  thought  it  best  to  proceed  no 
farther.  Indeed  I  was  already  within  close  rifle-shot  of  the 
column,  and  I  sat  down  on  the  ground  to  watch  their  move- 
ments. Sometimes  the  whole  would  stand  still,  their  heads  all 
facing  one  way  ;  then  they  would  trot  forward,  as  if  by  a  com- 
mon impulse,  their  hoofs  and  horns  clattering  together  as  they 
moved.  I  soon  began  to  hear  at  a  distance  on  the  left  the 
sharp  reports  of  a  rifle,  again  and  again  repeated  ;  and  not 
long  after,  dull  and  heavy  sounds  succeeded,  which  I  recog- 
nized as  the  familiar  voice  of  Shaw's  double-barreled  gun. 
When  Henry's  rifle  was  at  work  there  was  always  meat  to  be 
brought  in.  I  went  back  across  the  river  for  a  horse,  and  re- 
turning, reached  the  spot  where  the  hunters  were  standing. 
The  buffalo  were  visible  on  the  distant  prairie.  The  living 
had  retreated  from  the  ground,  but  ten  or  twelve  carcasses  were 
scattered  in  various  directions.  Henry,  knife  in  hand,  was 
stooping  over  a  dead  cow,  cutting  away  the  best  and  fattest  of 
the  meat. 


'21 


406  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

When  Shaw  left  me  he  had  walked  down  for  some  distance 
under  the  river-bank  to  find  another  bull.  At  length  he  saw 
the  plains  covered  with  the  host  of  bufialo,  and  soon  after 
heard  the  crack  of  Henry's  rifle.  Ascending  the  bank,  he 
crawled  through  the  grass,  which  for  a  rod  or  two  from  the 
river  was  very  high  and  rank.  He  had  not  crawled  far  before 
to  his  astonishment  he  saw  Henry  standing  erect  upon  the 
prairie,  almost  surrounded  by  the  buffalo.  Henry  was  in  his 
appropriate  element.  Nelson,  on  the  deck  of  the  '  Victory,' 
hardly  felt  a  pi'ouder  sense  of  mastery  than  he.  Quite  uncon- 
scious that  any  one  v/as  looking  at  him,  he  stood  at  the  full 
height  of  his  tall,  strong  figure,  one  hand  resting  upon  his  side, 
and  the  other  arm  leaning  carelessly  on  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle. 
His  eyes  was  ranging  over  the  singular  assemblage  around 
him.  Now  and  then  he  would  select  such  a  cow  as  suited 
him,  level  his  rifle,  and  shoot  her  dead  ;  then  quietl)''  re-load- 
ing, he  would  resume  his  former  position.  The  buffalo  seemed 
no  more  to  regard  his  presence  than  if  he  were  one  of  them- 
selves ;  the  bulls  were  bellowing  and  butting  at  each  other,  or 
else  rolling  about  in  the  dust.  A  group  of  buffalo  would 
gather  about  the  carcass  of  a  dead  cow,  snuffing  at  her  wounds  ; 
and  sometimes  they  would  come  behind  those  that  had  not  yet 
fallen,  and  endeavor  to  push  them  from  the  spot.  Now  and 
then  some  old  bull  would  face  toward  Henry  with  an  air  of 
stupid  amazement,  but  none  seemed  inclined  to  attack  or  fly 
from  him.  For  some  time  Shaw  lay  among  the  grass,  looking 
in  surprise  at  this  extraordinary  sight ;  at  length  he  crawled 
cautiously  forward,  and  spoke  in  a  low  voice  to  Henry,  who 
told  him  to  rise  and  come  on.  Still  the  buffalo  showed  no  sign 
of  fear ;  they  remained  gathered  about  their  dead  companions 


THE    BUFFALO    CAMP.  407 

Henry  had  already  killed  as  many  cows  as  we  wanted  for  use, 
and  Shaw,  kneeling  behind  one  of  the  carcasses,  shot  five  bulls 
before  the  rest  thought  it  necesssary  to  disperse. 

The  frequent  stupidity  and  infatuation  of  the  buffalo  seems 
the  more  remarkable  from  the  contrast  it  offers  to  their  wildness 
and  wariness  at  other  times.  Henry  knew  all  their  peculiar- 
ities ;  he  had  studied  them  as  a  scholar  studies  his  books,  and 
he  derived  quite  as  much  pleasure  from  the  occupation.  The 
buffalo  were  a  kind  of  companions  to  him,  and,  as  he  said,  he 
never  felt  alone  when  they  were  about  him.  He  took  great 
pride  in  his  skill  in  hunting.  Henry  was  one  of  the  most 
modest  of  men ;  yet  in  the  simplicity  and  frankness  of  his 
character,  it  was  quite  clear  that  he  looked  upon  his  pre-emience 
in  this  respect  as  a  thing  too  palpable  and  well-established  ever 
to  be  disputed.  But  whatever  may  have  been  his  estimate  of 
his  own  skill,  it  was  rather  below  than  above  that  which  others 
placed  upon  it.  The  only  time  that  I  ever  saw  a  shade  of 
scorn  darken  his  face,  was  when  two  volunteer  soldiers,  who 
had  just  killed  a  buffalo  for  the  first  time,  undertook  to  instruct 
him  as  to  the  best  method  of  '  approaching.'  To  borrow  an 
illustration  from  an  opposite  side  of  life,  an  Eton-boy  might  as 
well  have  sought  to  enlighten  Porsons  on  the  formation  of  a 
Greek  verb,  or  a  Fleet-street  shopkeeper  to  instruct  Chester- 
field concerning  a  point  of  etiquette.  Henry  always  seemod  to 
think  that  he  had  a  sort  of  prescriptive  right  to  the  buffalo,  and 
to  look  upon  them  as  something  belonging  peculiarly  to  himself. 
Nothing  excited  his  indignation  so  much  as  any  wanton 
destruction  committed  among  the  cows,  and  in  his  view  shooting 
a  calf  was  a  cardinal  sin. 

Henry  Chatillon  and   Tfite  Rouge  were  of  the  same  age  j 


408  TIIK    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

that  is,  about  thirty.  Henry  was  twice  as  large,  and  fully  six 
times  as  strong  as  Tute  Rouge.  Henry's  face  was  roughened 
by  winds  and  storms ;  Tfite  Rouge's  was  bloated  by  sherry- 
cobblers  and  brandy-toddy.  Henry  talked  of  Indians  and 
buffalo  ;  T6te  Rouge  of  theatres  and  oyster-cellars.  Henry 
had  led  a  life  of  hardship  and  privation  ;  Tete  Rouge  never 
had  a  whim  which  he  would  not  gratify  at  the  first  moment  he 
was  able.  Henry  moreover  was  the  most  disinterested  man  I 
ever  saw ;  while  T6te  Rouge,  though  equally  good-natured  in 
his  vvay,  cared  for  nobody  but  himself.  Yet  we  would  not  have 
lost  him  on  any  account ;  he  admirably  served  the  purpose  of  a 
jester  in  a  feudal  castle  ;  our  camp  would  have  been  lifeless 
without  him.  For  the  past  week  he  had  fattened  in  a  most 
amazing  manner  ;  and,  indeed,  this  was  not  at  all  surprising, 
since  his  appetite  was  most  inordinate.  He  was  eating  from 
morning  till  night ;  half  the  time  he  would  be  at  work  cooking 
some  private  repast  for  himself,  and  he  paid  a  visit  to  the 
coffee-pot  eight  or  ten  times  a  day.  His  rueful  and  discon- 
solate  face  became  jovial  and  rubicund,  his  eyes  stood  out  like 
a  lobster's,  and  his  spirits,  which  before  were  sunk  to  the  depths 
of  despondency,  were  now  elated  in  proportion ;  all  day  he 
was  singing,  whistling,  laughing,  and  telling  stories.  Being 
mortally  afraid  of  Jim  Gurney,  he  kept  close  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  our  tent.  As  he  had  seen  an  abundance  of  low- 
dissipated  life,  and  had  a  considerable  fund  of  humor,  his 
anecdotes  were  extremely  amusing,  especially  since  he  never 
hesitated  to  place  himself  in  a  ludicrous  point  of  view,  provided 
he  could  raise  a  laugh  by  doing  so.  Tete  Rouge,  however, 
was  sometimes  rather  troublesome  ;  he  had  an  inveterate  habit 
of  pilfering  provisions  at  all  times  of  the  day.     He  set  ridicule 


THE    BUFFALO    CAMP.  409 

at  Utter  defiance  ;  and  being  without  a  particle  of  self-respect, 
he  would  never  have  given  over  his  tricks,  even  if  they  had 
drawn  upon  him  the  scorn  of  the  whole  party.  Now  and  then, 
indeed,  something  worse  than  laughter  fell  to  his  share ;  on 
these  occasions  he  would  exhibit  much  contrition,  but  half  an 
hour  after  we  would  generally  observe  him  stealing  round  to 
the  box  at  the  back  of  the  cart,  and  slyly  making  off  with  the 
provisions  which  Delorier  had  laid  by  for  supper.  He  was  very 
fond  of  smoking  ;  but  having  no  tobacco  of  his  own,  we  used 
to  provide  him  with  as  much  as  he  wanted,  a  small  piece  at  a 
time.  At  first  we  gave  him  half  a  pound  together ;  but  this 
experiment  proved  an  entire  failure,  for  he  invariably  lost  not 
only  the  tobacco,  but  the  knife  intrusted  to  him  for  cutting  it, 
and  a  few  minutes  after  he  would  come  to  us  with  many  apol- 
ogies and  beg  for  more. 

We  had  been  two  days  at  this  camp,  and  some  of  the  meat 
was  nearly  fit  for  transportation,  when  a  storm  came  suddenly 
upon  us.  About  sunset  the  whole  sky  grew  as  black  as  ink, 
and  the  long  grass  at  the  river's  edge  bent  and  rose  mournfully 
with  the  first  gusts  of  the  approaching  hurricane.  Munroe  and 
his  two  companions  brought  their  guns  and  placed  them  under 
cover  of  our  tent.  Having  no  shelter  for  themselves,  they 
built  a  fire  of  driftwood  that  might  have  defied  a  cataract,  and 
wrapped  in  their  buffalo-robes,  sat  on  the  ground  around  it  to 
bide  the  fury  of  the  storm.  Delorier  ensconced  himself  under 
the  cover  of  the  cart.  Shaw  and  I,  together  with  Henry  and 
T^te  Rouge,  crowded  into  the  little  tent ;  but  first  of  all  the 
dried  meat  was  piled  together,  and  well  protected  by  buffalo- 
robes  pinned  firmly  to  the  ground.  About  nine  o'clock  the 
storm  broke,  amid  absolute  darkness  ;    it  blew  a  gale,  and  tor- 


410  TPfE    CALIFORNIA   AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

rents  of  rain  roared  over  the  boundless  expanse  of  open  prairie. 
Our  tent  was  filled  with  mist  and  spray  beating  through  the 
canvas,  and  saturating  every  thing  within.  We  could  only 
distinguish  each  other  at  short  intervals  by  the  dazzling  flash 
of  lightning,  which  displayed  the  whole  waste  around  us  with 
its  momentary  glare.  We  had  our  fears  for  the  tent ;  but  for 
an  hour  or  two  it  stood  fast,  until  at  length  the  cap  gave  way 
before  a  furious  blast ;  the  pole  tore  through  the  top,  and  in  an 
instant  we  were  half  suffocated  by  the  cold  and  dripping  folds 
of  the  canvas,  which  fell  down  upon  us.  Seizing  upon  our 
guns,  we  placed  them  erect,  in  order  to  lift  the  saturated  cloth 
above  our  heads.  In  this  agreeable  situation,  involved  among 
wet  blankets  and  buffalo-robes,  we  spent  several  hours  of  the 
night,  during  which  the  storm  would  not  abate  for  a  moment, 
but  pelted  down  above  our  heads  with  merciless  fury.  Before 
long  the  gi'ound  beneath  us  became  soaked  with  moisture,  and 
the  water  gathered  there  in  a  pool  two  or  three  inches  deep  ;  so 
that  for  a  considerable  part  of  the  night  we  were  partially  im- 
mersed in  a  cold  bath.  In  spite  of  all  this,  T6te  Rouge's  flow 
of  spirits  did  not  desert  him  for  an  instant ;  he  laughed,  whistled, 
and  sung  in  defiance  of  the  storm,  and  that  night  he  paid  off  the 
long  arrears  of  ridicule  which  he  owed  us.  While  we  lay  in 
silence,  enduring  the  infliction  with  what  philosophy  we  could 
muster,  T6te  Rouge,  who  was  intoxicated  with  animal  spirits, 
was  cracking  jokes  at  our  expense  by  the  hour  together.  At 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  •  preferring  the  tyranny  of 
the  open  night '  to  such  a  wretched  shelter,  we  crawled  out 
from  beneath  the  fallen  canvas.  The  wind  had  abated,  but 
the  rain  fell  steadily.  The  fire  of  the  California  men  still 
blazed  amid  the  darkness,  and  we  joined  them  as  they  sat 


THE    BUFFALO    CAMP.  411 

around  it.  We  made  ready  some  hot  coffee  by  way  of  refresh- 
ment ;  but  when  some  of  the  party  sought  to  replenish  their 
cups,  it  was  found  that  Tete  Rouge,  having  disposed  of  his  own 
share,  had  privately  abstracted  the  coffee-pot  and  drank  up  the 
rest  of  the  contents  out  of  the  spout. 

In  the  morning,  to  our  great  joy,  an  unclouded  syn  rose  upon 
the  prairie.  We  presented  rather  a  laughable  appearance,  for 
the  cold  and  clammy  buckskin,  saturated  with  water,  clung  fast 
to  our  limbs  ;  the  light  wind  and  warm  sunshine  soon  dried 
them  again,  and  then  we  were  all  incased  in  armor  of  intoler- 
able rigidity.  Roaming  all  day  over  the  prairie  and  shooting 
two  or  three  bulls,  were  scarcely  enough  to  restore  the  stiffened 
leather  to  its  usual  pliancy. 

Besides  Henry  Chatillon,  Shaw  and  I  were  the  only  hunters 
in  the  party.  Munroe  this  morning  made  an  attempt  to  run  a 
buffalo,  but  his  horse  could  not  come  up  to  the  game.  Shaw 
went  out  with  him,  and  being  better  mounted  soon  found  him- 
self in  the  midst  of  the  herd.  Seeing  nothing  but  cows  and 
calves  around  him,  he  checked  his  horse.  An  old  bull  came 
galloping  on  the  open  prairie  at  some  distance  behind,  and  turn- 
ing, Shaw  rode  across  his  path,  levelling  his  gun  as  he  passed, 
and  shooting  him  through  the  shoulder  into  the  heart.  The 
heavy  bullets  of  Shaw's  double-barrelled  gun  made  wild  work 
wherever  they  struck. 

A  great  flock  of  buzzards  were  usually  soaring  about  a  few 
trees  that  stood  on  the  island  just  below  our  camp.  Throughout 
the  whole  of  yesterday  we  had  noticed  an  eagle  among  them ; 
to-day  he  was  still  there ;  and  T6te  Rouge,  declaring  that  he 
would  kill  the  bird  of  America,  borrowed  Delorier's  gun  and 
set  out  on  his  unpatriotic  mission      As  might  have  been  expect- 


412  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

cd,  the  eagle  suffered  no  great  harm  at  his  hands.  He  soon 
returned,  saying  that  lie  could  not  find  him,  but  had  shot  a 
buzzard  instead.  Being  required  to  produce  the  bird  in  proof 
of  his  assertion,  he  said  he  believed  that  he  was  not  quite  dead, 
but  he  must  be  hurt,  from  the  swiftness  with  which  he  flew  off". 

'  If  you  want,'  said  Tete  Rouge,  '  I'll  go  and  get  one  of  his 
feathers ;  I  knocked  off  plenty  of  them  when  I  shot  him.' 

Just  opposite  our  camp,  was  another  island  covered  with 
bushes,  and  behind  it  was  a  deep  pool  of  water,  while  two  or 
three  considerable  streams  coursed  over  the  sand  not  far  off.  I 
was  bathing  at  this  place  in  the  afternoon  when  a  white  wolf, 
]  larger  than  the  largest  Newfoundland  dog,  ran  out  from  behind 

the  point  of  the  island,  and  galloped  leisurely  over  the  sand  not 
half  a  stone's  throw  distant.  I  could  plainly  see  his  red  eyes 
and  the  bristles  about  his  snout ;  he  was  an  ugly  scoundrel,  with 
a  bushy  tail,  large  head,  and  a  most  repulsive  countenance. 
Having  neither  rifle  to  shoot  nor  stone  to  pelt  him  with,  I  was 
looking  eagerly  after  some  missile  for  his  benefit,  when  the  report 
of  a  gun  came  from  the  camp,  and  the  ball  threw  up  the  sand 
just  beyond  him  ;  at  this  he  gave  a  slight  jump,  and  stretched 
away  so  swiftly  that  he  soon  dwindled  into  a  mere  speck  on 
the  distant  sand-beds.  The  number  of  carcasses  that  by  this 
time  were  lying  about  the  prairie  all  around  us,  summoned  the 
wolves  from  every  quarter  •  the  spot  where  Shaw  and  Henry 
had  hunted  together  soon  became  their  favorite  resort,  for  here 
about  a  dozen  dead  buffalo  were  fermenting  under  the  hot  sun. 
I  used  often  to  go  over  the  river  and  watch  them  at  their  meal ; 
by  lying  under  the  bank  it  was  easy  to  get  a  full  view  of  them. 
Three  different  kinds  were  present ;  there  were  the  white 
wolves  and  the  grfey  wolves,  both  extremely  large,  and  besides 


THE    BUFFALO    CAMP.  413 

these  the  small  prairie  wolves,  not  much  bigger  than  spaniels. 
They  would  howl  and  fight  in  a  crowd  around  a  single  carcass, 
yet  they  were  so  watchful,  and  their  senses  so  acute,  that  I 
never  was  able  to  crawl  within  a  fair  shooting  distance ;  when- 
ever I  attempted  it,  they  would  all  scatter  at  once  and  glide 
silently  away  through  the  tall  grass.  The  air  above  this  spot 
was  always  full  of  buzzards  or  black  vultures ;  whenever  the 
wolves  left  a  carcass  they  would  descend  upon  it,  and  cover  it 
so  densely  that  a  rifle  bullet  shot  at  random  among  the  gorman- 
dizing crowd  would  generally  strike  down  two  or  three  of 
them.  These  birds  would  now  be  sailing  by  scores  just 
above  our  camp,  their  broad  black  wings  seeming  half 
transparent  as  they  expanded  them  against  the  bright  sky. 
The  wolves  and  the  buzzards  thickened  about  us  with  every 
hour,  and  two  or  three  eagles  also  came  into  the  feast.  I 
killed  a  bull  within  rifle-shot  of  the  camp ;  that  night  the 
wolves  made  a  fearful  howling  close  at  hand,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing the  carcass  was  completely  hollowed  out  by  these  voracious 
feeders. 

After  we  had  remained  four  days  at  this  camp  we  prepared 
to  leave  it.  We  had  for  our  own  part  about  five  hundred 
pounds  of  dried  meat,  and  the  California  men  had  prepared 
some  three  hundred  more  ;  this  consisted  of  the  fattest  and 
choicest  parts  of  eight  or  nine  cows,  a  very  small  quantity  only 
being  taken  from  each,  and  the  rest  abandoned  to  the  wolves. 
The  pack  animals  were  laden,  the  horses  were  saddled,  and  the 
mules  harnessed  to  the  cart.  Even  T6te  Rouge  was  ready  at 
last,  and  slowly  moving  from  the  ground,  we  resumed  our 
journey  eastward.  When  we  had  advanced  about  a  ^le, 
Shaw  missed   a  valuable  huntins-knife   and  turned    back^in 


414  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

search  of  it,  thinking  that  he  had  left  it  at  the  camp.  He  ap- 
preached  the  place  cautiously,  fearful  that  Indians  might  be 
lurking  about,  for  a  deserted  camp  is  dangerous  to  return  to. 
He  saw  no  enemy,  but  the  scene  was  a  wild  and  dreary  one  ; 
the  prairie  was  overshadowed  by  dull,  leaden  clouds,  for  the 
day  was  dark  and  gloomy.  The  ashes  of  the  fires  were  still 
smoking  by  the  riverside  ;  the  grass  around  them  was  trampled 
down  by  men  and  horses,  and  strewn  with  all  the  litter  of  a 
camp.  Our  departure  had  been  a  gathering  signal  to  the  birds 
and  beasts  of  prey  ;  Shaw  assured  me  that  literally  dozens 
of  wolves  were  prowling  about  the  smouldering  fires,  while 
multitudes  were  roaming  over  the  prairie  around  ;  they  all  fled 
as  he  approached,  some  running  over  the  sand-beds  and  some 
over  the  grassy  plains.  The  vultures  in  great  clouds  were 
soaring  overhead,  and  the  dead  bull  near  the  camp  was  com- 
pletely blackened  by  the  flock  that  had  alighted  upon  it ;  they 
flapped  their  broad  wings,  and  stretched  upward  their  crested 
heads  and  long  skinny  necks,  fearing  to  remain,  yet  reluctant 
to  leave  their  disgusting  feast.  As  he  searched  about  the  fires 
he  saw  the  wolves  seated  on  the  distant  hills  waiting  for  his  de- 
parture. Having  looked  in  vain  for  his  knife,  he  mounted 
again,  and  left  the  wolves  and  the  vultures  to  banquet  freely 
upon  the  carrion  of  the  camp. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

DOWN     THE     ARKANSAS. 

"They  quitted  not  their  harness  bright, 
Neitlier  by  day  nor  yet  by  night ;  < 

They  lay  down  to  rest 
With  corslet  laced, 
Pillowed  on  buckler  cold  and  hard. 
They  carved  at  the  meal 
With  gloves  of  steel, 
And  they  drank  the  red  wine  through  the  helmet  barred.' 

The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 

In  the  summer  of  1846,  the  wild  and  lonely  banks  of  the 
Upper  Arkansas  beheld  for  the  first  time  the  passage  of  an 
army.  General  Kearney,  on  his  march  to  Santa  Fe,  adopted 
this  route  in  preference  to  the  old  trail  of  the  Cimarron.  When 
we  came  down,  the  main  body  of  the  troops  had  already  passed 
on ;  Price's  Missouri  regiment,  however,  was  still  on  the  way, 
having  left  the  frontier  much  later  than  the  rest ;  and  about 
this  time  we  began  to  meet  them  moving  along  the  trail,  one  or 
two  companies  at  a  time.  No  men  ever  embarked  upon  a 
military  expedition  with  a  greater  love  for  the  work  before 
them  than  the  Missourians ;  but  if  discipline  and  subordination 


416  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OKEGON    TRAIL. 

be  the  criterion  of  merit,  these  soldiers  were  worthless  indeed. 
Yet  when  their  exploits  have  rung  through  all  America,  it 
would  be  absurd  to  deny  that  they  were  excellent  irregular 
troops.  Their  victories  were  gained  in  the  teetli  of  every  es- 
tablished precedent  of  warfare  ;  they  were  owing  to  a  singu- 
lar combination  of  military  qualities  in  the  men  themselves. 
Without  discipline  or  a  spirit  of  subordination,  they  knew  how 
to  keep  their  I'anks  and  act  as  one  man.  Doniphan's  I'egiment 
marched  through  New  Mexico  more  like  a  band  of  free  com- 
panions than  like  the  paid  soldiers  of  a  modern  government. 
When  General  Taylor  complimented  Doniphan  on  his  success 
at  Sacramento  and  elsewhere,  the  Colonel's  reply  very  well 
illustrates  the  relations  which  subsisted  between  the  officers 
and  men  of  his  command  : 

'  I  don't  know  any  thing  of  the  manoeuvres.  The  boys 
kept  coming  to  me,  to  let  them  charge  ;  and  when  I  saw  a 
good  opportunity,  I  told  them  they  might  go.  They  were  off 
like  a  shot,  and  that's  all  I  know  about  it.' 

The  backwoods  lawyer  was  better  fitted  to  conciliate  the 
good-will  than  to  command  the  obedience  of  his  men.  There 
were  many  serving  under  him,  who  both  from  character  and 
education  could  better  have  held  command  than  he. 

At  the  battle  of  Sacramento  his  frontiersmen  fought  under 
every  possible  disadvantage.  The  Mexicans  had  chosen  their 
own  position  ;  they  were  drawn  up  across  the  valley  that  led 
to  their  native  city  of  Chihuahua ;  their  whole  front  was  cover- 
ed  by  intrenchments  and  defended  by  batteries  of  heavy  can- 
non ;  they  outnumbered  the  invaders  five  to  one.  An  eagle 
flew  over  the  Americans,  and  a  deep  murmur  rosr»  along  their 
lines.     The   enemy's    batteries  opened ;    long  they  remained 


DOWN    THE    ARKANSAS.  417 

under  fire,  but  when  at  length  the  word  was  given,  they 
shouted  and  ran  forward.  In  one  of  the  divisions,  when  mid- 
way to  the  enemy  a  drunken  officer  ordered  a  halt ;  the  exas- 
perated men  hesitated  to  obey. 

'  Forward,  boys  !'  cried  a  private  from  the  ranks  ;  and  the 
Americans,  rushing  like  tigers  upon  the  enemy,  bounded  over 
the  breastwork.  Four  hundred  Mexicans  were  slain  upon  the 
spot,  and  the  rest  fled,  scattering  over  the  plain  like  sheep. 
The  standards,  cannon  and  baggage  were  taken,  and  among 
the  rest  a  wagon  laden  with  cords,  which  the  Mexicans,  in  the 
fulness  of  their  confidence,  had  made  ready  for  tying  the  Ame- 
rican prisoners. 

Doniphan's  volunteers,  who  gained  this  victory,  passed  up 
with  the  main  army  ;  but  Price's  soldiers  whom  we  now  met, 
were  men  from  the  same  neighborhood,  precisely  similar  in 
character,  manners  and  appearance.  One  forenoon,  as  we 
were  descending  upon  a  very  wide  meadow,  where  we  meant 
to  rest  for  an  hour  or  two,  we  saw  a  dark  body  of  horsemen 
approaching  at  a  distance.  In  order  to  find  water,  we  were 
obliged  to  turn  aside  to  the  river  bank,  a  full  half  mile  from 
the  trail.  Here  we  put  up  a  kind  of  awning,  and  spreading 
buffalo-robes  on  the  ground,  Shaw  and  I  sat  down  to  smoke  be- 
neath it. 

'  We  are  going  to  catch  it  now,'  said  Shaw  ;  '  look  at  those 
fellows;  there'll  be  no  peace  for  us  here.' 

And  in  good  truth  about  half  the  volunteers  had  straggled 
away  from  the  line  of  march,  and  were  riding  over  the  mea- 
dow toward  us. 

'How  are  you?'  said  the  first  who  came  up,  alighting  from 
his  horse  and  throwing  himself  upon  the  ground.    The  rest  fol 


418  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

lowed  close,  and  a  score  of  them  soon  gathered  about  us,  some 
lying  at  full  length  and  some  sitting  on  horseback.  They  all 
belonged  to  a  company  raised  in  St.  Louis.  There  were  some 
ruffian  faces  among  them,  and  some  haggard  with  debauchery ; 
but  on  the  whole  they  were  extremely  good-looking  men,  su- 
perior beyond  measure  to  the  ordinary  rank  and  file  of  an 
army.  Except  that  they  were  booted  to  the  knees,  they  wore 
their  belts  and  military  trappings  over  the  ordinary  dress  of 
citizens.  Besides  their  swords  and  holster  pistols,  they  carried 
slung  from  their  saddles  the  excellent  Springfield  carbines, 
loaded  at  the  breech.  They  inquired  the  character  of  our 
party,  and  were  anxious  to  know  the  prospect  of  killing  buffalo, 
and  the  chance  that  their  horses  would  stand  the  journey  to 
Santa  Fe.  All  this  was  well  enough,  but  a  moment  after  a 
worse  visitation  came  upon  us. 

'  How  are  you,  strangers  ?  whar  are  you  going  and  whar  are 
you  from  V  said  a  fellow,  who  came  trotting  up  with  an  old 
straw  hat  on  his  head.  He  was  dressed  in  the  coarsest  brown 
homespun  cloth.  His  face  was  rather  sallow  from  fever-and- 
ague,  and  his  tall  figure,  though  strong  and  sinewy,  was  quite 
thin,  and  had  besides  an  angular  look,  which,  together  with  his 
boorish  seat  on  horseback,  gave  him  an  appearance  any  thing 
but  graceful.  Plenty  more  of  the  same  stamp  were  close 
behind  him.  Their  company  was  raised  in  one  of  the  frontier 
counties,  and  we  soon  had  abundant  evidence  of  their  rustic 
breeding  ;  dozens  of  them  came  crowding  round,  pushing  be- 
tween our  first  visitors,  and  staring  at  us  with  unabashed  faces. 

'  Are  you  the  captain  V  asked  one  fellow. 

•  What's  your  business  out  here  V  asked  another. 

*  Whar  do  you  live  when  you're  at  home  ?'  said  a  third. 


DOWN    THE    ARKANSAS.  419 

*  I  reckon  you're  traders,'  surmised  a  fourth  ;  and  to  crown 
the  whole,  one  of  them  came  confidently  to  my  side  and  inquired 
in  a  low  voice,  '  What's  your  partner's  name  V 

As  each  new  comer  repeated  the  same  questions,  the 
nuisance  became  intolerable.  Our  military  visitors  were  soon 
disgusted  at  the  concise  nature  of  our  replies,  and  we  could  over- 
hear them  muttering  curses  against  us.  While  we  sat  smoking, 
not  in  the  best  imaginable  humor,  Tete  Rouge's  tongue  was 
never  idle.  He  never  forgot  his  military  character,  and  during 
the  whole  interview  he  was  incessantly  busy  among  his  fellow 
soldiers.  At  length  we  placed  him  on  the  ground  before  us, 
and  told  him  that  he  might  play  the  part  of  spokesman  for  the 
whole.  Tete  Rouge  was  delighted,  and  we  soon  had  the  satis 
faction  of  seeing  him  talk  and  gabble  at  such  a  rate  that  the 
torrent  of  questions  was  in  a  great  measure  diverted  from  us. 
A  little  while  after,  to  our  amazement,  we  saw  a  large  cannon 
with  four  horses  come  lumbering  up  behind  the  crowd ;  and 
the  driver,  who  was  perched  on  one  of  the  animals,  stretching 
his  neck  so  as  to  look  over  the  rest  of  the  men,  called  out : 

'  Whar  are  you  from,  and  what's  your  business  V 

The  captain  of  one  of  the  companies  was  among  our 
visitors,  drawn  by  the  same  curiosity  that  had  attracted  his 
men.  Unless  their  faces  belied  them,  not  a  few  in  the  crowd 
might  with  great  advantage  have  changed  places  with  their 
commander. 

'  Well,  men,'  said  he,  lazily  rising  from  the  ground  where 
he  had  been  lounging,  '  it's  getting  late,  I  reckon  we  had  better 
be  moving.' 

'  I  shan't  start  yet  any  how,'  said  one  fellow,  who  was  'y^"S 
half  asleep  with  his  head  resting  on  his  arm. 


420  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON   TRAIL. 

*  Don't  be  in  a  hurry,  captain,'  added  the  lieutenant. 

*  Well,  have  it  your  own  way,  we'll  wait  awhile  longer,' 
replied  the  obsequious  commander. 

At  length  however  our  visitors  went  straggling  away  as  they 
had  come,  and  we,  to  our  great  relief,  were  left  alone  again. 

No  one  can  deny  the  intrepid  bravery  of  these  men,  their 
intelligence  and  the  bold  frankness  of  their  character,  free  from 
all  that  is  mean  and  sordid.  Yet  for  the  moment  the  extreme 
roughness  of  their  manners,  half  inclines  one  to  forget  their 
heroic  qualities.  Most  of  them  seem  without  the  least  per- 
ception of  delicacy  or  propriety,  though  among  them  individuals 
may  be  found  in  whose  manners  there  is  a  plain  courtesy, 
while  their  features  bespeak  a  gallant  spirit  equal  to  any 
enterprise. 

No  one  was  more  relieved  than  Delorier  by  the  departure 
of  the  volunteers  :  for  dinner  was  getting  colder  everv  moment. 
He  spread  a  well-whitened  buffalo-hide  upon  the  grass,  placed 
in  the  middle  the  juicy  hump  of  a  fat  cow,  ranged  around  it  the 
tin  plates  and  cups,  and  then  acquainted  us  that  all  was  ready. 
Tete  Rouge,  with  his  usual  alacrity  on  such  occasions,  was 
the  first  to  take  his  seat.  In  his  former  capacity  of  steamboat 
clerk,  he  had  learned  to  prefix  the  honorary  Mister  to  every 
body's  name,  whether  of  high  or  low  degree  ;  so  Jim  Gurney 
was  Mr.  Gurney,  Henry  was  Mr.  Henry,  and  even  Delorier,  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  heard  himself  addressed  as  Mr.  Delo- 
rier. This  did  not  prevent  his  conceiving  a  violent  enmity 
against  Tete  Rouge,  who  in  his  futile  though  praiseworthy 
attempts  to  make  himself  useful,  used  always  to  intermeddle 
with  cooking  the  dinners.  Delorier's  disposition  knew  no 
medium  between  smiles  and  sunshine  and  a  downright  tornado 


DOWN    THE    ARKANSAS.  421 

of  wrath  ;  he  said  nothing  to  Tete  Rouge,  but  his  wrongs 
rankled  in  his  breast.  T^te  Rouge  had  taken  his  place  at 
dinner  ,•  it  was  his  happiest  moment ;  he  sat  enveloped  in  the 
old  buffalo-coat,  sleeves  turned  up  in  preparation  for  the  work, 
and  his  short  legs  crossed  on  the  grass  before  him ;  he  had 
a  cup  of  coffee  by  his  side  and  his  knife  ready  in  his  hand, 
and  while  he  looked  upon  the  fat  hump  ribs,  his  eyes  dilated 
with  anticipation.'  Delorier  sat  just  opposite  to  him,  and  the 
rest  of  us  by  this  time  had  taken  our  seats. 

'  How  is  this,  Delorier  ?  You  haven't  given  us  breac^ 
3nough.' 

At  this  Delorier's  placid  face  flew  instantly  into  a  paroxysm 
of  contortions.  He  grinned  with  wrath,  chattered,  gesticulated, 
and  hurled  forth  a  volley  of  incoherent  words  in  broken 
English  at  the  astonished  Tete  Rouge.  It  was  just  possible  to 
make  out  that  he  was  accusing  him  of  having  stolen  and  eaten 
four  large  cakes  which  had  been  laid  by  for  dinner.  Tete 
Rouge,  utterly  confounded  at  this  sudden  attack,  stared  at 
Delorier  for  a  moment  in  dumb  amazement,  with  mouth  and 
eyes  wide  open.  At  last  he  found  speech,  and  protested  that 
the  accusation  was  false  ;  and  that  he  could  not  conceive  how 
he  had  offended  Mr.  Delorier,  or  provoked  him  to  use  such 
ungentlemanly  expressions.  The  tempest  of  words  raged  with 
such  fury  that  nothing  else  could  be  heard.  But  Tdte  Rouge 
from  his  greater  command  of  English  had  a  manifest  advantage 
over  Delorier,  who  after  sputtering  and  grimacing  for  awhile, 
found  his  words  quite  inadequate  to  the  expression  of  his  wrath. 
He  jumped  up  and  vanished,  jerking  out  between  his  teeth  one 
furious  sacre  enfan  de  grace,  a  Canadian  title  of  honor,  made 


28" 


422  THE    CALIFCRNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

doubly  emphatic  by  being  usually  applied  together  with  a  cut 
of  the  whip  to  refractory  mules  and  horses. 

The  next  morning  we  saw  an  old  buffalo  bull  escorting  his 
cow  with  two  small  calves  over  the  prairie.  Close  behind  came 
four  or  five  large  white  wolves,  sneaking  stealthily  through  the 
long  meadow-grass,  and  watching  for  the  moment  when  one  of 
the  children  should  chance  to  lag  behind  his  parents.  The  old 
bull  kept  well  on  his  guard,  and  faced  about  now  and  then  to 
keep  the  prowling  ruffians  at  a  distance. 

As  we  approached  our  nooning-place,  we  saw  five  or  six 
buffalo  standing  at  the  very  summit  of  a  tall  bluff.  Trotting 
forward  to  the  spot  where  we  meant  to  stop,  I  flung  off  my  sad- 
dle and  turned  my  horse  loose.  By  making  a  circuit  under 
cover  uf  some  rising  ground,  I  reached  the  foot  of  the  bluff  un- 
noticed, and  climbed  up  its  steep  side.  Lying  under  the  brow 
of  the  declivity,  I  prepared  to  fire  at  the  buffalo,  who  stood  on 
the  flat  surface  above,  not  five  yards  distant.  Perhaps  I  was 
too  hasty,  for  the  gleaming  rifle-barrel  levelled  over  the  edge 
caught  their  notice  ;  they  turned  and  ran.  Close  as  they  were, 
it  was  impossible  to  kill  them  when  in  that  position,  and  stepping 
upon  the  summit,  I  pursued  them  over  the  high  arid  table-land. 
It  was  extremely  rugged  and  broken  ;  a  great  sandy  ravine  was 
channelled  through  it,  with  smaller  ravines  entering  on  each 
side,  like  tributary  streams.  The  buffalo  scattered,  and  I  soon 
lost  sight  of  most  of  them  as  they  scuttled  away  through  the 
sandy  chasms ;  a  bull  and  a  cow  alone  kept  in  view .  For  a 
while  they  ran  along  the  edge  of  the  great  ravine,  appearing 
and  disappearing  as  they  dived  into  some  chasm  and  again 
emerged  from  it.  At  last  they  stretched  out  upon  the  broad 
prairie,  a  plain  nearly  flat  and  almost  devoid  of  verdure,  for 


DOWN    THK    ARKANSAS.  423 

every  short  grass-blade  was  dried  and  shrivelled  by  the  glaring 
sun.  Now  and  then  the  old  bull  would  face  toward  me  ;  when- 
ever he  did  so  I  fell  to  the  ground  and  lay  motionless.  In  this 
manner  I  chased  them  for  about  two  miles,  until  at  length  I 
heard  in  front  a  deep  hoarse  bellowing.  A  moment  after,  a 
band  of  about  a  hundred  bulls,  before  hidden  by  a  slight  swell 
of  the  plain,  came  at  once  into  view.  The  fugitives  ran  toward 
them.  Instead  of  mingling  with  the  band,  as  I  expected,  they 
passed  directly  through,  and  continued  their  flight.  At  this  I 
gave  up  the  chase,  and  kneeling  down,  crawled  to  within  gun- 
shot of  the  bulls,  and  with  panting  breath  and  trickling  brow 
sat  down  on  the  ground  to  watch  them ;  my  presence  did  not 
disturb  them  in  the  least.  They  were  not  feeding,  for,  indeed, 
there  was  nothing  to  eat  j  but  they  seemed  to  have  chosen  the 
parched  and  scorching  desert  as  the  scene  of  their  amusements. 
Some  were  rolling  on  the  ground  amid  a  cloud  of  dust ;  others, 
with  a  hoarse  rumbling  bellow,  were  butting  their  large  heads 
together,  while  many  stood  motionless,  as  if  quite  inanimate. 
Except  their  monstrous  growth  of  tangled  grizzly  mane,  they 
had  no  hair ;  for  their  old  coat  had  fallen  off  in  the  spring,  and 
their  new  one  had  not  as  yet  appeared.  Sometimes  an  old  bull 
would  step  forward,  and  gaze  at  me  with  a  grim  and  stupid 
countenance  ;  then  he  would  turn  and  butt  his  next  neighbor ; 
then  he  would  lie  down  and  roll  over  in  the  dirt,  kicking  his 
hoofs  in  the  air.  When  satisfied  with  this  amusement,  he  would 
jerk  his  head  and  shoulders  upward,  and  resting  on  his  forelegs, 
stare  at  me  in  this  position,  half  blinded  by  his  mane,  and  his 
face  covered  with  dirt ;  then  up  he  would  spring  upon  all  fours, 
and  shake  his  dusty  sides ;  turning  half  round,  he  would  stand 
with  his  beard  touching  the  ground,  in  ar  attitude  of  profound 


424  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

abstraction,  as  if  reflecting  on  his  puerile  conduct-  '  You  are 
too  ugly  to  live,'  thought  1 ;  and  aiming  at  the  ugliest,  I  shot 
three  of  them  in  succession.  The  rest  were  not  at  all  discom- 
posed  at  this ;  they  kept  on  bellowing  and  butting  and  rolling 
on  the  ground  as  before.  Henry  Chattillon  always  cautioned 
us  to  keep  perfectly  quiet  in  the  presence  of  a  wounded  buffalo, 
for  any  movement  is  apt  to  excite  him  to  make  an  attack ;  so  I 
sat  still  upon  the  ground,  loading  and  firing  with  as  little  motion 
as  possible.  While  I  was  thus  employed,  a  spectator  made  his 
appearance  :  a  little  antelope  came  running  up  with  remarkable 
gentleness  to  within  fifty  yards;  and  there  it  stood,  its  slender 
neck  arched,  its  small  horns  thrown  back,  and  its  large  dark 
eyes  gazing  on  me  with  a  look  of  eager  curiosity.  By  the  side 
of  the  shaggy  and  brutish  monsters  before  me,  it  seemed  like 
some  lovely  young  girl  wandering  near  a  den  of  robbers  or  a 
nest  of  bearded  pirates.  The  buffalo  looked  uglier  than  ever. 
*  Here  goes  for  another  of  you,'  thought  I,  feeling  in  my  pouch 
for  a  percussion-cap.  Not  a  percussion-cap  was  there.  My 
good  rifle  was  useless  as  an  old  iron  bar.  One  of  the  wounded 
bulls  had  not  yet  fallen,  and  I  waited  for  some  time,  hoping 
every  moment  that  his  strength  would  fail  him.  He  still  stood 
firm,  looking  grimly  at  me,  and  disregarding  Henry's  advice,  I 
rose  and  walked  away.  Many  of  the  bulls  turned  and  looked 
at  me,  but  the  wounded  brute  made  no  attack.  I  soon  came 
upon  a  deep  ravine  which  would  give  me  shelter  in  case  of 
emergency ;  so  I  turned  round  and  threw  a  stone  at  the  bulls. 
They  received  it  with  the  utmost  indifference.  Feeling  myself 
insulted  at  their  refusal  to  be  frightened,  I  swung  my  hat, 
shouted,  and  made  a  show  of  running  toward  them  ;  at  this 
they  crowded  together  and  galloped  off,  leaving  their  dead  and 


DOWN    THE    ARKANSAS.  425 

wounded  upon  the  field.  As  I  moved  towards  the  camp  I  saw 
the  last  survivor  totter  and  fall  dead.  tMy  speed  in  returning 
was  wonderfully  quickened  by  the  reflection  that  the  Pawnees 
were  abroad,  and  that  I  was  defenceless  in  case  of  meeting  with 
an  enemy.  I  saw  no  living  thing,  however,  except  two  or  three 
squalid  old  bulls  scrambling  among  the  sand-hills  that  flanked 
the  great  ravine.  When  I  reached  camp  the  party  were  nearly 
ready  for  the  afternoon  move. 

We  encamped  that  evening  at  a  short  distance  from  the 
river  bank.  About  midnight,  as  we  all  lay  asleep  on  the 
ground,  the  man  nearest  to  me,  gently  reaching  out  his  hand, 
touched  my  shoulder,  and  cautioned  me  at  the  same  time  not  to 
move.  It  was  bright  starlight.  Opening  my  eyes  and  slightly 
turning,  I  saw  a  large  white  wolf  moving  stealthily  around  the 
embers  of  our  fire,  with  his  nose  close  to  the  ground.  Disen- 
gaging my  hand  from  the  blanket,  I  drew  the  cover  from  my 
rifle,  which  lay  close  at  my  side  ;  the  motion  alarmed  the  wolf, 
and  with  long  leaps  he  bounded  out  of  the  camp.  Jumping  up, 
I  fired  after  him,  when  he  was  about  thirty  yards  distant ;  the 
melancholy  hum  of  the  bullet  sounded  far  away  through  the 
night.  At  the  sharp  report,  so  suddenly  breaking  upon  the  still- 
ness, all  the  men  sprang  up. 

*  You've  killed  him,'  said  one  of  them. 

'  No  I  haven't,'  said  I ;  '  there  he  goes,  running  along  the 
river.' 

'  Then  there's  two  of  them.  Don't  you  see  that  one  lying 
out  yonder  V 

We  went  out  to  it,  and  instead  of  a  dead  white  wolf,  found 
the  bleached  skull  of  a  buffalo.  I  had  missed  my  mark,  and 
what  was  worse,  had  grossly  violated  a  standing  law  of  the 


426  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

prairie.  When  in  a  dangerous  part  of  the  country,  it  is  con- 
sidered highly  imprudent  to  fire  a  gun  after  encamping,  lest  the 
report  should  reach  the  ears  of  the  Indians. 

The  horses  were  saddled  in  the  morning,  and  the  last 
man  had  lighted  his  pipe  at  the  dying  ashes  of  the  fire.  The 
beauty  of  the  day  enlivened  us  all.  Even  Ellis  felt  its  influ- 
ence, and  occasionally  made  a  remark  as  we  rode  along, 
and  Jim  Gurney  told  endless  stories  of  his  cruisings  in  the 
United  States  service.  The  buffalo  were  abundant,  and  at 
length  a  large  band  of  them  went  running  up  the  hills  on  the 
left. 

'  Do  you  see  them  buffalo  V  said  Ellis,  '  now  I'll  bet  any 
man  I'll  go  and  kill  one  with  my  yager.' 

And  leaving  his  horse  to  follow  on  with  the  party,  he  strode 
up  the  hill  after  them.  Henry  looked  at  us  with  his  peculiar 
humorous  expression,  and  proposed  that  we  should  follow  Ellis 
to  see  how  he  would  kill  a  fat  cow.  As  soon  as  he  was  out 
of  sight  we  rode  up  the  hill  after  him,  and  waited  behind  a  little 
ridge  till  we  heard  the  report  of  the  unfailing  yager.  Mount- 
ing to  the  top,  we  saw  Ellis  clutching  his  favorite  weapon  with 
both  hands,  and  staring  after  the  buffalo,  who  one  and  all  were 
galloping  off  at  full  speed.  As  we  descended  the  hill  we  saw  the 
party  straggling  along  the  trail  below.  When  we  joined  them, 
another  scene  of  amateur  hunting  awaited  us.  I  forgot  to  say 
that  when  we  met  the  volunteers,  T6te  Rouge  had  obtained  a 
horse  from  one  of  them,  in  exchange  for  his  mule,  whom  he 
feared  and  detested.  This  horse  he  christened  James.  James, 
though  not  worth  so  much  as  the  mule,  was  a  large  and  strong 
animal.  T6te  Rouge  was  very  proud  of  his  new  acquisition, 
and  suddenly  became  ambitious  to  run  a  buffalo  with  him.    At 


DOWN    THE    ARKANSAS.  427 

his  request,  I  lent  him  my  pistols,  though  not  without  great  mis- 
givings, since  when  T6te  Rouge  hunted  buffalo  the  pursuer  was 
in  more  danger  than  the  pursued.  He  hung  the  holsters  at  his 
saddle-bow  ;  and  now  as  we  passed  along,  a  band  of  bulls  left 
their  grazing  in  the  meadow,  and  galloped  in  a  long  file  across 
the  trail  in  front. 

'  Now's  your  chance,  Tete ;  come,  let's  see  you  kill  a 
bull.' 

Thus  urged,  the  hunter  cried,  '  get  up  !'  and  James,  obe- 
dient  to  the  signal,  cantered  deliberately  forward  at  an 
abominably  uneasy  gait.  Tete  Rouge,  as  we  contemplated 
him  from  behind,  made  a  most  remarkable  figure.  He  still 
wore  the  old  buffalo-coat ;  his  blanket  which  was  tied  in  a  loose 
bundle  behind  his  saddle,  went  jolting  from  one  side  to  the  other, 
and  a  large  tin  canteen  half  full  of  water  which  hung  from  his 
pommel,  was  jerked  about  his  leg  in  a  manner  which  greatly 
embarrassed  him. 

'  Let  out  your  horse,  man  •  lay  on  your  whip !'  we  called 
out  to  him.  The  buffalo  were  getting  farther  off"  at  every 
instant.  James  being  ambitious  to  mend  his  pace,  tugged  hard 
at  the  rein,  and  one  of  his  rider's  boots  escaped  from  the 
stirrup. 

'  Woh  !  I  say,  woh  !'  cried  Tfite  Rouge,  in  great  perturba- 
tion, and  after  much  effort  James'  progress  was  arrested.  The 
hunter  came  trotting  back  to  the  party,  disgusted  with  buffalo- 
running,  and  he  was  received  with  overwhelming  congratula- 
tions. 

'  Too  good  a  chance  to  lose,'  said  Shaw,  pointing  to  another 
band  of  bulls  on  the  left.  We  lashed  our  horses  and  galloped 
upon  them.     Shaw  killed  one  with  each  barrel  of  his  gun.     I 


428         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TRAIL. 

separated  another  from  the  herd  and  shot  him.  The  small 
bullet  of  the  rifle  pistol  striking  too  far  back,  did  not  imme- 
diately take  effect,  and  the  bull  ran  on  with  unabated  speed. 
Again  and  again  I  snapped  the  remaining  pistol  at  him.  I 
primed  it  afresh  three  or  four  times,  and  each  time  it  missed 
fire,  for  the  touch-hole  was  clogged  up.  Returning  it  to  the 
holster,  I  began  to  load  the  empty  pistol,  still  galloping  by  the 
side  of  the  bull.  By  this  time  he  was  grown  desperate.  The 
foam  flew  from  his  jaws  and  his  tongue  lolled  out.  Before  the 
pistol  was  loaded  he  sprang  upon  me,  and  followed  up  his 
attack  with  a  furious  rush.  The  only  alternative  was  to  run 
away  or  be  killed.  1  took  to  flight,  and  the  bull  bristling  with 
fury,  pursued  me  closely.  The  pistol  was  soon  ready,  and  then 
looking  back,  I  saw  his  head  five  or  six  yards  behind  my  horse's 
tail.  To  fire  at  it  would  be  useless,  for  a  bullet  flattens  against 
the  adamantine  skull  of  a  buffalo  bull.  Inclining  my  body  to 
ihe  left,  I  turned  my  horse  in  that  direction  as  sharply  as  his 
speed  would  permit.  The  bull  rushing  blindly  on  wiih  great 
force  and  weight,  did  not  turn  so  quickly.  As  I  looked  back, 
his  neck  and  shoulder  were  exposed  to  view  ;  turning  in  the 
saddle,  I  shot  a  bullet  through  them  obliquely  into  his  vitals. 
He  gave  over  the  chase  and  soon  fell  to  the  ground.  An  En- 
glish tourist  represents  a  situation  like  this  as  one  of  imminent 
danger  ;  this  is  a  great  mistake  ;  the  bull  never  pursues  long, 
and  the  horse  must  be  wrenched  indeed,  that  cannot  keep  out 
of  his  way  for  two  or  three  minntes. 

We  were  now  come  to  a  part  of  the  country  where  we  were 
bound  in  common  prudence  to  use  every  possible  precaution. 
We  mounted  guard  at  night,  each  man  standing  in  his  turn  ; 
and  no  one  ever  slept  without  drawing  his  rifle  close  to  his  side 


DOWN    THE    ARKANSAS.  429 

I 

or  folding  it  with  him  in  his  blanket.  One  moriing  our  vigil- 
ance was  stimulated  by  our  finding  traces  of  a  large  Camanche 
encampment.  Fortunately  for  us,  however,  it  had  been  aban- 
doned  nearly  a  week.  On  the  next  evening  we  found  the  ashes 
of  a  recent  fire,  which  gave  us  at  the  time  some  uneasiness. 
At  length  we  reached  the  Caches,  a  place  of  dangerous  repute  ; 
and  it  had  a  most  dangerous  appearance,  consisting  of  sand- 
hills every  where  broken  by  ravines  and  deep  chasms.  Here 
we  found  the  grave  of  Swan,  killed  at  this  place,  probably 
by  the  Pawnees,  two  or  three  weeks  before.  His  remains, 
more  than  once  violated  by  the  Indians  and  the  wolves,  were 
suffered  at  length  to  remain  undisturbed  in  their  wild  burial- 
place. 

For  several  days  we  met  detached  companies  of  Price's  re- 
giment. Horses  would  often  break  loose  at  night  from  their 
camps.  One  afternoon  we  picked  up  three  of  these  stragglers 
quietly  grazing'  along  the  river.  After  we  came  to  camp  that 
evening,  Jim  Gurney  brought  news  that  more  of  them  were  in 
sight.  It  was  nearly  dark,  and  a  cold,  drizzling  rain  had  set 
in  ;  but  we  all  turned  out,  and  after  an  hour's  chase  nine 
horses  were  caught  and  brought  in.  One  of  them  was  equip- 
ped with  saddle  and  bridle  ;  pistols  were  hanging  at  the  pom- 
mel of  the  saddle,  a  carbine  was  slung  at  its  side,  and  a  blanket 
rolled  up  behind  it.  In  the  morning,  gloryii.g  in  our  valuable 
prize,  we  resumed  our  journey,  and  our  cavalcade  presented  a 
much  more  imposing  appearance  than  ever  before.  We  kept 
on  till  the  afternoon,  when,  far  behind,  three  horsemen  appear 
ed  on  the  horizon.  Coming  on  at  a  hand-gallop,  they  soon 
overtook  us,  and  claimed  all  the  horses  as  belonging  to  them- 
selves and  others  of  their  company.     They  were  of  course 


430  THE    CAL*aKNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

given  up,  very  mucli  to  the   mortification  of  Ellis   and   Jim 
Gurney. 

Our  own  horses  now  showed  signs  of  fatigue,  and  we  re- 
solved to  give  them  half  a  day's  rest.  We  stopped  at  noon  at 
a  grassy  spot  by  the  river.  After  dinner  Shaw  and  Henry 
went  out  to  hunt ;  and  while  the  men  lounged  about  the  camp, 
I  lay  down  to  read  in  the  shadow  of  the  cart.  Looking  up,  I 
saw  a  bull  grazing  alone  on  the  prairie  more  than  a  mile  dis- 
tant. I  was  tired  of  reading,  and  takuig  my  rifle  I  walked  to- 
ward him.  As  I  came  near,  I  crawled  upon  the  ground  until 
I  approached  to  within  a  hundred  yards ;  here  I  sat  down  upon 
the  grass  and  waited  till  he  should  turn  himself  into  a  proper 
position  to  receive  his  death-wound.  He  was  a  grim  old  vete- 
ran. His  loves  and  his  battles  were  over  for  that  season,  and 
now,  gaunt  and  war-worn,  he  had  withdrawn  from  the  herd  to 
graze  by  himself  and  recruit  his  exhausted  strength.  He  was 
miserably  emaciated  ;  his  mane  was  all  in  tatters  ;  his  hide  was 
bare  and  rough  as  an  elephant's,  and  covered  with  dried  patches 
of  the  mud  in  which  he  had  been  wallowing.  He  showed  all 
his  ribs  whenever  he  moved.  He  looked  like  some  grizzly  old 
ruffian  grown  gray  in  blood  and  violence,  and  scowling  on  all 
the  world  from  his  misanthropic  seclusion.  The  old  savage 
looked  up  when  I  first  approached,  and  gave  me  a  fierce  stare  ; 
then  he  fell  to  grazing  again  with  an  air  of  contemptuous 
mdifference.  The  moment  after,  as  if  suddenly  recollecting 
himself,  he  threw  up  his  head,  faced  quickly  about,  and  to  my 
amazement  came  at  a  rapid  trot  directly  toward  me.  I  was 
strongly  impelled  to  get  up  and  run,  but  this  would  have  been 
very  dangerous.  Sitting  quite  still,  I  aimed,  as  he  came  on,  at 
the  thin  part  of  the  skull  above  the  nose.     After  he  had  passed 


DOWN    THE    ARKANS'-G.  431 

over  about  three-quarters  of  the  distance  between  us,  I  was  on 
the  point  of  firing,  when,  to  my  great  satisfaction,  he  stopped 
short.  I  had  full  opportunity  of  studying  his  countenance  ;  his 
whole  front  was  covered  with  a  huge  mass  of  coarse  matted 
hair,  which  hung  so  low  that  nothing  but  his  two  fore-feet  were 
visible  beneath  it ;  his  short  thick  horns  were  blunted  and  split 
to  the  very  roots  in  his  various  battles,  and  across  his  nose  and 
forehead  were  two  or  three  large  white  scars,  which  gave  him 
a  grim,  and  at  the  same  time,  a  whimsical  appearance.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  he  stood  there  motionless  for  a  full  quarter 
of  an  hour,  looking  at  me  through  the  tangled  locks  of  his 
mane.  For  my  part,  I  remained  as  quiet  as  he,  and  looked 
quite  as  hard ;  I  felt  greatly  inclined  to  come  to  terms  with 
him.  '  My  friend,'  thought  I,  '  if  you'll  let  me  oif,  I'll  let  you 
off.'  At  length  he  seemed  to  have  abandoned  any  hostile 
design.  Very  slowly  and  deliberately  he  began  to  turn  about ; 
little  by  little  his  side  came  into  view,  all  beplastered  with 
mud.  It  was  a  tempting  sight.  I  forgot  my  prudent  intentions, 
and  fired  my  rifle  ;  a  pistol  would  have  served  at  that  distance. 
Round  spun  old  bull  like  a  top,  and  away  he  galloped  over  the 
prairie.  He  ran  some  distance,  and  even  ascended  a  consider- 
able hill,  before  he  lay  down  and  died.  After  shooting  another 
bull  among  the  hills,  I  went  back  to  camp. 

At  noon,  on  the  fourteenth  of  September,  a  very  large  Santa 
Fe  caravan  came  up.  The  plain  was  covered  with  the  long 
files  of  their  white-topped  wagons,  the  close  black  carriages  in 
which  the  traders  travel  and  sleep,  large  droves  6f  animals, 
and  men  un  horseback  and  on  foot.  They  all  stopped  on  the 
meadow  near  us.  Our  diminutive  cart  and  handful  of  men 
made  but  an  insignificant  figure  by  the  side  of  their  wide  and 


432  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

bustling  camp.  T6te  Rouge  went  over  to  visit  tliem,  and  soon 
came  back  with  half  a  dozen  biscuits  in  one  hand,  and  a  bottle 
of  brandy  in  the  other.  I  inquired  where  he  got  them.  '  Oh,' 
said  T^tc  Rouge,  '  I  know  some  of  the  traders.  Dr.  Dobbs  is 
there  besides.'  I  asked  who  Dr.  Dobbs  might  be.  '  One  of 
our  St.  Louis  doctors,'  replied  Tete  Rouge.  ,  For  two  days 
past  I  had  been  severely  attacked  by  the  same  disorder  which 
had  so  greatly  reduced  my  strength  when  at  the  mountains ;  at 
this  time  I  was  suffering  not  a  little  from  the  sudden  pain  and 
weakness  which  it  occasioned.  T^te  Rouge,  in  answer  to  my 
inquiries,  declared  that  Dr.  Dobbs  was  a  physician  of  the  first 
standing.  Without  at  all  believing  him,  I  resolved  to  consult 
this  eminent  practitioner.  Walking  over  to  the  camp,  I  found 
him  lying  sound  asleep  under  one  of  the  wagons.  He  offered 
in  his  own  person  but  an  indifferent  specimen  of  his  skill,  for 
it  was  five  months  since  I  had  seen  so  cadaverous  a  face.  His 
hat  had  fallen  off,  and  his  yellow  hair  was  all  in  disorder  ;  one 
of  his  arms  supplied  the  place  of  a  pillow  j  his  pantaloons 
were  wrinkled  half  way  up  to  his  knees,  and  he  was  covered 
with  little  bits  of  grass  and  straw,  upon  which  he  had  rolled  in 
his  uneasy  slumber.  A  Mexican  stood  near,  and  I  made  him 
a  sign  that  he  should  touch  the  doctor.  Up  sprang  the  learned 
Dobbs,  and  sitting  upright,  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked  about 
him  in  great  bewilderment.  I  regretted  the  necessity  of  dis- 
turbing him,  and  said  I  had  come  to  ask  professional  advice. 

'  Your  system,  sir,  is  'a  a  disordered  state,'  said  he, 
solemnly,  after  a  short  examination. 

I  inquired  what  might  be  the  particular  species  of  disorder. 

'  Evidently  a  morbid  action  of  the  liver,'  replied  the 
medical  man  ;  *  I  will  give  you  a  prescription.' 


DOWN   THE    ARKANSAS.  433 

Repairing  to  the  back  of  one  of  the  covered  wagons,  he 
scrambled  in ;  for  a  moment  I  could  see  nothing  of  him  but  his 
boots.  At  length  he  produced  a  box  which  he  had  extracted  from 
some  dark  recess  within,  and  opening  it,  he  presented  me  with 
a  folded  paper  of  some  size.  '  What  is  it  V  said  I.  '  Calomel,' 
said  the  doctor. 

Under  the  circumstances  I  would  have  taken  almost  any 
thing.  There  was  not  enough  to  do  me  much  harm,  and  it 
might  possibly  do  good  ;  so  at  camp  that  night  I  took  the  poison 
instead  of  supper. 

That  camp  is  worthy  of  notice.  The  traders  warned  us 
not  to  follow  the  main  trail  along  the  river,  '  unless,'  as  one  of 
them  observed,  '  you  want  to  have  your  throats  cut !'  The 
river  at  this  place  makes  a  bend  ;  and  a  smaller  trail,  known 
as  '  the  Ridge-path,'  leads  directly  across  the  prairie  from  point 
to  point,  a  distance  of  sixty  or  seventy  miles. 

We  followed  this  trail,  and  after  travelling  seven  or  eight 
miles,  we  came  to  a  small  stream,  where  we  encamped.  Our 
position  was  not  chosen  with  much  forethought  or  military  skill. 
The  water  was  in  a  deep  hollow,  with  steep,  high  banks  ;  on 
the  grassy  bottom  of  this  hollow  we  picketed  our  horses,  while 
we  ourselves  encamped  upon  the  barren  prairie  just  above. 
The  opportunity  was  admirable  either  for  driving  off  our  horses 
or  attacking  us.  After  dark,  as  T6te  Rouge  was  sitting  at 
supper,  we  observed  him  pointing  with  a  face  of  speechless 
horror  over  the  shoulder  of  Henry,  who  was  opposite  to  him. 
Aloof  amid  the  darkness  appeared  a  gigantic  black  apparition, 
solemnly  swaying  to  and  fro  as  it  advanced  steadily  upon 
us.  Henry,  half  vexed  and  half  amused,  jumped  up,  spread 
out  his  arms,  and  shouted.     The  invader  was  an  old  buffalo- 

19 


484  THE   CALIFORNIA   AND   OREGON    TRAIL. 

bull,  who,  with  characteristic  stupidity,  was  walking  directly 
into  camp.  It  cost  some  shouting  and  swinging  of  hats  before 
we  could  bring  him  first  to  a  halt  and  then  to  a  rapid  retreat. 

That  night  the  moon  was  full  and  bright ;  but  as  the  black 
clouds  chased  rapidly  over  it,  we  were  at  one  moment  in  light 
and  at  the  next  in  darkness.  As  the  evening  advanced,  a 
thunder-storm  came  up  ;  it  struck  us  with  such  violence  that 
the  tent  would  have  been  blown  over  if  we  had  not  interposed 
the  cart  to  break  the  force  of  the  wind.  At  length  it  subsided 
to  a  steady  rain.  I  lay  awake  through  nearly  the  whole  night, 
listening  to  its  dull  patter  upon  the  canvass  above.  The 
moisture,  which  filled  the  tent  and  trickled  from  every  thing  in 
it,  did  not  add  to  the  comfort  of  the  situation.  About  twelve 
o'clock  Shaw  went  out  to  stand  guard  amid  the  rain  and  pitch 
darkness.  Munroe,  the  most  vigilant  as  well  as  one  of  the 
bravest  among  us,  was  also  on  the  alert.  When  about  two 
hours  had  passed,  Shaw  came  silently  in,  and  touching  Henry, 
called  him  in  a  low  quick  voice  to  come  out.  '  What  is  it  ?'  I 
asked.  '  Indians,  I  believe,'  whispered  Shaw ;  '  but  lie  still ; 
I'll  call  you  if  there's  a  fight.' 

He  and  Henry  went  out  together.  I  took  the  cover  from 
my  rifle,  put  a  fresh  percussion  cap  upon  it,  and  then,  being 
in  much  pain,  lay  down  again.  In  about  five  minutes  Shaw 
came  in  again.  '  All  right,'  he  said,  as  he  lay  down  to  sleep. 
Henry  was  now  standing  guard  in  his  place.  He  told  me  in 
the  morning  the  particulars  of  the  alarm.  Munroe's  watchful 
eye  discovered  some  dark  objects  down  in  the  hollow,  among 
the  horses,  like  men  creeping  on  all-fours.  Lying  flat  on  their 
faces,  he  and  Shaw  crawled  to  the  edge  of  the  bank,  and  were 
soon  convinced  that  what   they   saw  were  Indians.      Shaw 


DOWN    THE    ARKANSAS.  435 

silently  withdrew  to  call  Henry,  and  they  all  lay  watching  in 
the  same  position.  Henry's  eye  is  one  of  the  best  on  the 
prairie.  He  detected  after  a  while  the  true  nature  of  the  moving 
objects ;  they  were  nothing  but  wolves  creeping  among  the 
horses. 

It  is  very  singular  that  when  picketed  near  a  camp  horses 
seldom  show  any  fear  of  such  an  intrusion.  The  wolves  appear 
to  have  no  other  object  than  that  of  gnawing  the  trail-ropes  of 
raw-hide  by  which  the  animals  are  secured.  Several  times  in 
the  course  of  the  journey  my  horse's  trail-rope  was  bitten  in 
two  by  these  nocturnal  visitors. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

THE     SETTLEMENTS. 

"  And  some  are  in  a  far  conntree, 
And  some  all  restlessly  at  home; 
But  never  more,  ah  never,  we 
Shall  meet  to  revel  and  to  roam." 

Siege  of  Corinth. 

The  next  day  was  extremely  hot,  and  we  rode  from  morn- 
ing  till  night  without  seeing  a  tree,  or  a  bush,  or  a  drop  of  wa- 
ter. Our  horses  and  mules  suffered  much  more  than  we,  but 
as  sunset  approached,  they  pricked  up  their  ears  and  mended 
thei'*  pace.  Water  was  not  far  off.  When  we  came  to  the 
desc<'.nt  of  the  broad  shallow  valley  where  it  lay,  an  unlooked- 
for  sight  awaited  us.  The  stream  glistened  at  the  bottom,  and 
along  its  banks  were  pitched  a  multitude  of  tents,  while  hun- 
dreds of  cattle  were  feeding  over  the  meadows.  Bodies  of 
troops,  both  horse  and  foot,  and  long  trains  of  wagons  with  men, 
women,  and  children,  were  moving  over  the  opposite  ridge  and 
descending  the  broad  declivity  in  front.  These  were  the  Mor- 
mon battalion  in  the  service  of  government,  together  with  a  con- 
siderable number  of  Missouri  Volunteers.     The  Mormons  were 


THE    SETTLEMENTS.  437 

to  be  paid  off  in  California,  and  they  were  allowed  to  bring 
with  them  tlieir  families  and  property.  There  was  something 
very  striking  in  the  half-military,  half-patriarchal  appearance 
of  these  armed  fanatics,  thus  on  their  way  with  their  wives 
and  children,  to  found,  it  might  be,  a  Mormon  empire  in  Cali- 
fornia. We  were  much  more  astonished  than  pleased  at  the 
sight  before  us.  In  order  to  find  an  unoccupied  camping, 
ground,  we  were  obliged  to  pass  a  quarter  of  a  mile  up  the 
stream,  and  here  we  were  soon  beset  by  a  swarm  of  Mormons 
and  Missourians.  The  United  States  officer  in  command  of  the 
whole  came  also  to  visit  us,  and  remained  some  time  at  our 
camp. 

In  the  morning  the  country  was  covered  with  mist.  We 
were  always  early  risers,  but  before  we  were  ready,  the  voices 
of  men  driving  in  the  cattle  sounded  all  around  us.  As  we 
passed  above  their  camp,  we  saw  through  the  obscurity  that 
the  tents  were  falling,  and  the  ranks  rapidly  forming  ;  and  min- 
gled with  the  cries  of  women  and  children,  the  rolling  of  the 
Mormon  drums  and  the  clear  blast  of  their  trumpets  sounded 
through  the  mist. 

From  that  time  to  the  journey's  end,  we  met  almost  every 
day  long  trains  of  government  wagons,  laden  with  stores  for  the 
troops,  and  crawling  at  a  snail's  pace  towards  Santa  Fe. 

Tete  Rouge  ha(^  a  mortal  antipathy  to  danger,  but  on  a  for- 
aging  expedition  one  evening,  he  achieved  an  adventure  more 
perilous  than  had  yet  befallen  any  man  in  the  party.  The 
night  after  we  left  the  RidgcPath  we  encamped  close  to  the 
river.  At  sunset  we  saw  a  train  of  wagons  encamping  on  the 
trail,  about  three  miles  off;  and  though  we  saw  them  distinctly, 
our  little  cart,  as  it  afterward  proved,  entirely  escaped  their 


'29 


439  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

view.  For  some  clays  Tcte  Rouge  had  been  longing  eagerly 
after  a  dram  of  whisky.  So,  resolving  to  improve  the  present 
opportunity,  he  mounted  his  horse  James,  slung  his  canteen  over 
his  shoulder,  and  set  forth  in  search  of  his  favorite  liquor. 
Some  hours  passed  without  his  returning.  We  thought  that  he 
was  lost,  or  perhaps  that  some  stray  Indian  had  snapped  him 
up.  While  the  rest  fell  asleep  I  remained  on  guard.  Late  at 
night  a  tremulous  voice  saluted  me  from  the  darkness,  and 
T6te  Rouge  and  James  soon  became  visible,  advancing  toward 
the  camp.  Tete  Rouge  was  in  much  agitation  and  big  with 
some  important  tidings.  Sitting  down  on  the  shaft  of  the  cart, 
he  told  the  following  story. 

When  he  left  the  camp  he  had  no  idea,  he  said,  how  late  it 
was.  By  the  time  he  approached  the  wagoners  it  was  perfectly 
dark  ;  and  as  he  saw  them  all  sitting  around  their  fires  within 
the  circle  of  wagons,  their  guns  laid  by  their  sides,  he  thought 
he  might  as  well  give  warning  of  his  approach,  in  order  to  pre- 
vent a  disagreeeble  mistake.  Raising  his  voice  to  the  highest 
pitch,  he  screamed  out  in  prolonged  accents,  *  camp  ahoy  /' 
This  eccentric  salutation  produced  any  thing  but  the  desired 
re^lt.  Hearing  such  hideous  sounds  proceeding  from  the  outer 
darkness,  the  wagoners  thought  that  the  whole  Pawnee  nation 
were  about  to  break  in  and  take  their  scalps.  Up  they  sprang 
staring  with  terror.  Each  man  snatched  his  gun  ;  some  stood 
behind  the  wagons ;  some  threw  themselves  flat  on  the  ground, 
and  in  an  instant  twenty  cocked  muskets  were  levelled  fu^l  at 
the  horrified  Tfite  Rouge,  who  just  then  began  to  be  visible 
through  the  darkness. 

'  Thar  ^hey  come,^-  cried  the  master  wagoner,  '  fire,  fire, 
shoot  that  feller.' 


THE    SETTLEMENTS.  439 

*  No,  no  !'  screamed  Tete  Rouge,  in  an  ecstasy  of  fright ; 
*  don't  fire,  don't ;  I'm  a  friend,  I'm  an  American  citizen  !' 

'  You're  a  friend,  be  you,'  cried  a  gruff  voice  from  tlie  wa- 
gons, '  then  what  are  you  yelling  out  thar  for,  like  a  wild  In- 
jun.    Come  along  up  here  if  you're  a  man.' 

'  Keep  your  guns  p'inted  at  him,'  added  the  master  wagoner, 
•may  be  he's  a  decoy,  like.' 

Tete  Rouge  in  utter  bewilderment  made  his  approach,  with 
the  gaping  muzzles  of  the  muskets  still  before  his  eyes.  He 
succeeded  at  last  in  explaining  his  character  and  situation,  and 
the  Missourians  admitted  him  into  camp.  He  got  no  whisky  ; 
but  as  he  represented  himself  as  a  great  invalid,  and  suffering 
much  from  coarse  fare,  they  made  up  a  contribution  for  him  of 
I'ice,  biscuit,  and  sugar  from  their  own  rations. 

In  the  morning  at  breakfast,  Tete  Rouge  once  more  related 
this  story.  We  hardly  knew  how  much  of  it  to  believe, 
though  after  some  cross-questioning  we  failed  to  discover  any 
flaw  in  the  narrative.  Passing  by  the  wagoner's  camp,  they 
confirmed  T6te  Rouge's  account  in  every  particular. 

*  I  wouldn't  have  been  in  that  feller's  place,'  said  one  of 
them,  *  for  the  biggest  heap  of  money  in  Missouri.' 

To  Tete  Rouge's  great  wrath  they  expressed  a  firm  convic- 
tion that  he  was  crazy.  We  left  them  after  giving  them  the 
advice  not  to  trouble  themselves  about  war-whoops  in  future, 
since  they  would  be  apt  to  feel  an  Indian's  arrow  before  they 
heard  his  voice. 

A  day  or  two  after,  we  had  an  adventure  of  another  sort 
with  a  party  of  wagoners.  Henry  and  I  rode  forward  to  hunt. 
After  that  day  there  was  no  probability  that  we  should  meet 
with  buffalo,  and  we  were  anxious  to  kill  one,  for  the  sake  of 


440  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

fresli  meat.     They  were  so  wild  that  we  liunted  all  the  morn- 
ing in  vain,  but  at  noon  as  we  approached  Cow  Creek  we  saw 
a  large  band  feeding  near  its  margin.     Cow  Creek  is  densely 
lined  with  trees  which  intercept  the  view  beyond,  and  it  runs  as 
we   afterward   found  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  trench.     We  ap- 
proached by  riding  along  the  bottom  of  a  ravine.     When  we 
were  near  enough,  I  held  the  horses  while  Henry  crept  toward 
the  buffalo.     I  saw  him  take  his  seat  within  sliooting  distance, 
prepare  his  rifle  and  look  about  to  select  his  victim.     The  death 
of  a  fat  cow  was  certain,  when  suddenly  a  great  smoke  arose 
from  the  bed  of  the  Creek  with  a  rattling  volley  of  musketry. 
A  score  of  long-legged  Missourians  leaped  out  from  among  the 
trees  and  ran  after  the  buffalo,  who  one  and  all  took  to  their 
heels  and  vanished.     These  fellows  had  crawled  up  the  bed  of 
the  Creek  to  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  buffalo.     Never  was 
there  a  fairer  chance  for  a  shot.     They  were  good  marksmen ; 
all  cracked  away  at  once  and  yet  not  a  buffalo  fell.     In  fact 
the  animal  is  so  tenacious  of  life  that  it  requires  no  little  know- 
ledge of  anatomy  to  kill  it,  and  it  is  very  seldom  that  a  novice 
succeeds   in  liis  first  attempt   at   approaching.       The   balked 
Missourians  were  excessively  mortified,  especially  when  Henry 
told  them  that  if  they  had  kept  quiet  he   would  have  killed 
meat  enough  in  ten  minutes  to  feed  their  whole  party.     Our 
friends,  who  were  at  no  great  distance,  hearing  such   a  formi- 
dable fusilade,  thought  the  Indians  had  fired  the  volley  for  our 
benefit.     Shaw  came  galloping  on  to  reconnoitre  and  learn  if 
we  were  yet  in  the  land  of  the  living. 

At  Cow  Creek  we  found  the  very  welcome  novelty  of  ripe 
grapes  and  plums  which  grew  there  in  abundance.  At  the  lit- 
tle Arkansas,  not  much  farther  on,  we  saw  the  last  buffalo,  a 


THE    SETTLEMENTS.  441 

miserable  old  bull,  roaming  over  the  prairie  alone  and  melan- 
choly. 

From  this  time  forward  the  character  of  the  country  was 
changing  every  day.  We  had  left  behind  us  the  great  arid 
deserts,  meagerly  covered  by  the  tufted  bufFalo-grass,  with  its 
pale  green  hue,  and  its  short  shrivelled  blades.  The  plains  be- 
fore us  were  carpeted  with  rich  and  verdant  herbage  sprinkled 
with  flowers.  In  place  of  buffalo  we  found  plenty  of  prairie 
hens,  and  we  bagged  them  by  dozens  without  leaving  the  trail. 
In  three  or  four  days  we  saw  before  us  the  broad  woods  and  the 
emerald  meadows  of  Council  Grove,  a  scene  of  striking  lux- 
uriance and  beauty.  It  seemed  like  a  new  sensation  as  we 
rode  beneath  the  resounding  arches  of  these  noble  woods.  The 
trees  were  ash,  oak,  elm,  maple  and  hickory,  their  mighty  limbs 
deeply  overshadowing  the  path,  while  enormous  grape-vines 
were  entwined  among  them,  purple  with  fruit.  The  shouts  of 
our  scattered  party,  and  now  and  then  a  report  of  a  rifle  rang 
amid  the  breathing  stillness  of  the  forest.  We  rode  forth  again 
with  regret  into  the  broad  light  of  the  open  prairie.  Little 
more  than  a  hundred  miles  now  separated  us  from  the  frontier 
settlements.  The  whole  intervening  country  was  a  succession 
of  verdant  prairies,  rising  in  broad  swells  and  relieved  by  trees 
clustering  like  an  oasis  around  some  spring,  or  following  the 
course  of  a  stream  along  some  fertile  hollow.  These  are  the 
prairies  of  the  poet  and  the  novelist.  We  had  left  danger  be- 
hind us.  Nothing  was  to  be  feared  from  the  Indians  of  this 
region,  the  Sacs  and  Foxes,  the  Kanzas,  and  the  Osages.  We 
had  met  with  signal  good  fortune.  Although  for  five  months 
we  had  been  travelling  with  an  insufficient  force  through  a 
country  where  we  were  at  any  moment  liable  to  depredation, 


•142  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

not  a  single  animal  had  been  stolen  from  us.  And  our  only 
loss  had  been  one  old  mule  bitten  to  death  by  a  rattlesnake. 
Three  weeks  after  we  reached  the  frontier,  the  Pawnees  and 
the  Camai)ches  began  a  regular  series  of  hostilities  on  the  Ar- 
kansas  trail,  killing  men  and  driving  off  horses.  They  attacked, 
without  exception,  every  party,  large  or  small,  that  passed  dur- 
ing the  next  six  months. 

Diamond  Spring,  Rock  Creek,  Elder  Grove,  and  other 
camping  places  beside,  were  passed  all  in  quick  succession. 
At  Rock  Creek  we  found  a  train  of  government  provision 
wagons  under  the  charge  of  an  emaciated  old  man  in  his 
seventy-first  year.  Some  restless  American  devil  had  driven 
him  into  the  wilderness  'at  a  time  when  he  should  have  been 
seated  at  his  fireside  with  his  grandchildren  on  his  knees.  I 
am  convinced  that  he  never  returned  ;  he  was  complaining 
that  night  of  a  disease,  the  wasting  effects  of  which  upon  a 
younger  and  stronger  man,  I  myself  had  proved  from  severe 
experience.  Long  ere  this  no  doubt  the  wolves  have  howled 
their  moonlight  carnival  over  the  old  man's  attenuated  remains. 

Not  long  after  we  came  to  a  small  trail  leading  to  Fort 
Leavenworth,  distant  but  one  day's  journey.  T6te  Rouge  here 
took  leave  of  us.  He  was  anxious  to  go  to  the  Fort  in  order  to 
receive  payment  for  his  valuable  military  services.  So  he  and 
his  horse  James,  after  bidding  an  affectionate  farewell,  set  out 
together,  taking  with  them  as  much  provision  as  they  could 
conveniently  carry,  including  a  large  quantity  of  brown  sugar. 
On  a  cheerless  rainy  evening  we  came  to  our  last  encamping 
ground.  Some  pigs  belonging  to  a  Shawanoe  farmer,  were 
grunting  and  rooting  at  the  edge  of  the  grove. 

'  I  wonder  how  fresh  pork  tastes,'  murmured  one  of  the 


THE    SETTLEMENTS.  443 

party,  and  more  than  one  voice  murmured  in  response.  The 
fiat  went  forth,  '  That  pig  must  die,'  and  a  rifle  was  levelled 
forthwith  at  the  countenance  of  the  plumpest  porker.  Just 
then  a  wagon  train,  with  some  twenty  Missourians,  came  out 
from  among  the  trees.  The  marksman  suspended  his  aim, 
deeming  it  inexpedient  under  the  circumstances  to  consummate 
the  deed  of  blood. 

In  the  morning  we  made  our  toilet  as  well  as  circumstances 
would  permit,  and  that  is  saying  but  very  little.  In  spile  of 
the  dreary  rain  of  yesterday,  there  never  was  a  brighter  and 
gayer  autumnal  morning  than  that  on  which  we  returned  to  the 
settlements.  We  were  passing  through  the  country  of  the 
half-civilized  Shawanoes.  It  was  a  beautiful  alternation  of 
fertile  plains  and  groves,  whose  foliage  was  just  tinged  with 
the  hues  of  autumn,  while  close  beneath  them  rested  the  neat 
log- houses  of  the  Indian  farmers.  Every  field  and  meadow 
bespoke  the  exuberant  fertility  of  the  soil.  The  maize  stood 
rustling  in  the  wind,  matured  and  dry,  its  shining  yellow  ears 
thrust  out  between  the  gaping  husks.  Squashes  and  enormous 
yellow  pumpkins  lay  basking  in  the  sun  in  the  midst  of  their 
brown  and  shrivelled  leaves.  Robins  and  blackbirds  flew  about 
the  fences ;  and  every  thing  in  short  betokened  our  near 
approach  to  home  and  civilization.  The  forests  that  border  on 
the  Missouri  soon  rose  before  us,  and  we  entei'ed  the  wide  tract 
of  shrubbery  which  forms  their  outskirts.  We  had  passed 
the  same  road  on  our  outward  journey  in  the  spring,  but  its 
aspect  was  totally  changed.  The -young  wild  apple-trees,  then 
flushed  with  their  fragrant  blossoms,  were  now  hung  thickly 
with  ruddy  fruit.  Tall  grass  flourished  by  the  roadside  in 
place  of  the  tender  shoots  just  peeping  from  the  warm  and  oozy 


i44 


THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRATL. 


soil.  The  vines  were  laden  with  dark  purple  grapes,  and  tho 
slender  twigs  of  the  maple,  then  tasseled  with  their  clusters  of 
small  red  flowers,  now  hung  out  a  gorgeous  display  of  leaves 
stained  by  the  frost  with  burning  crimson.  On  every  side  we 
saw  the  tokens  of  maturity  and  decay  where  all  had  before 
been  fresh  and  beautiful.  We  entered  the  forest,  and  our- 
selves and  our  horses  were  checkered  as  we  passed  along,  by 
the  bright  spots  of  sunlight  that  fell  between  the  opening 
boughs.  On  either  side  the  dark,  rich  masses  of  foliage  almost 
excluded  the  sun,  though  here  and  there  its  rays  could  find 
their  way  down,  striking  through  the  broad  leaves  and  lighting 
them  with  a  pure  transparent  green.  Squirrels  barked  at  us 
from  the  trees ;  coveys  of  young  partridges  ran  rustling  over 
the  leaves  below,  and  the  golden  oriole,  the  blue-jay  and  the 
flaming  red-bird  darted  among  the  shadowy  branches.  We 
hailed  these  sights  and  sounds  of  beauty  by  no  means  with  an 
unmingled  pleasure.  Many  and  powerful  as  were  the  attrac- 
tions which  drew  us  toward  the  settlements,  we  looked  back 
even  at  that  moment  with  an  eajjer  longing  toward  the  wilder- 

O  DO 

ness  of  prairies  and  mountains  behind  us.  For  myself  I  had 
suffered  more  that  summer  from  illness  than  ever  before  in  my 
life,  and  yet  to  this  hour  I  cannot  recall  those  savage  scenes 
and  savage  men  without  a  strong  desire  again  to  visit  them. 

At  length  for  the  first  time  during  about  half  a  year,  we 
saw  the  roof  of  a  white  man's  dwelling  between  the  opening 
trees.  A  few  moments  after  we  were  riding  over  the  miserable 
log-bridge  that  leads  into  the  centre  of  Westport.  Westport 
had  beheld  strange  scenes,  but  a  rougher  looking  troop  than 
ours  with  our  worn  equipments  and  broken-down  horses,  was 
never   seen   even   there,      We   passed   the  well-remembered 


THE    SETTLEMENTS.  445 

tavern,  Boone'?  grocery  and  old  Vogle's  dram-shop,  and 
encamped  on  a  meadow  beyond.  Here  we  were  soon  visited 
by  a  number  of  people  who  came  to  purchase  our  horses  and 
equipage.  This  matter  disposed  of,  we  hired  a  wagon  and 
drove  on  to  Kanzas  landing.  Here  we  were  agam  received 
under  the  hospitable  roof  of  our  old  friend  Colonel  Chick,  and 
seated  under  his  porch,  we  looked  down  once  more  on  the 
eddies  of  the  IMissouri. 

Delorier  made  his  appearance  in  the  morning,  strangely 
transformed  by  the  assistance  of  a  hat,  a  coat  and  a  razor.  Hia 
little  log-house  was  among  the  woods  not  far  oiF.  It  seemed  he 
had  meditated  giving  a  ball  on  the  occasion  of  his  return,  and 
had  consulted  Henry  Chatillon,  as  to  whether  it  would  do  to 
invite  his  bourgeois.  Henry  expressed  his  entire  conviction 
that  we  would  not  take  it  amiss,  and  the  invitation  was  now 
proffered  accordingly,  Delorier  adding  as  a  special  inducement 
that  Antoine  Lajeunesse  was  to  play  the  fiddle.  We  told  him 
we  would  certainly  come,  but  before  the  evening  arrived,  a 
steamboat  which  came  down  from  Fort  Leavenworth,  pre- 
vented our  being  present  at  the  expected  festivities.  Delo- 
rier was  on  the  rock  at  the  landing-place,  waiting  to  take  leave 
of  us. 

'  Adieu  !  mes  bourgeois,  adieu  !  adieu  !'  he  cried  out  as  the 
boat  put  off ;  'when  you  go  another  time  to  de  Rocky  Mon- 
tagnes  I  will  go  with  you ;  yes,  I  will  go !' 

He  accompanied  this  patronizing  assurance  by  jumping 
about,  swinging  his  hat,  and  grinning  from  ear  to  ear.  As 
the  boat  rounded  a  distant  point,  the  last  object  that  niei  our 
eyes  was  Delorier  still  lifting  his  hat  and  skipping  about 
the  rock.     We  had  taken  leave  of  Munroe  and  Jim    Gurnei 


446         THE  CALIFORNIA  AND  OREGON  TR^ilL. 

at  Westport,  and  Henry  Chatillon  went  down  in  the  boat  with 
ua. 

The  passage  to  St.  Louis  occupied  eight  days,  during  about 
a  third  of  which  time  we  were  fast  aground  on  sand-bars.  We 
passed  the  steamer  Amelia  crowded  with  a  roaring  crew  of  dis- 
banded volunteers,  swearing,  drinking,  gambling,  and  fighting. 
At  length  one  evening  we  reached  the  crowded  levee  of  St. 
Louis.  Repairing  to  the  Planters'  House,  we  caused  diligent 
search  to  be  made  for  our  trunks,  which  after  some  time  were 
discovered  stowed  away  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  store- 
rooom.  In  the  morning  we  hardly  recognized  each  other ;  a 
frock  of  broadcloth  had  supplanted  the  frock  of  buckskin ; 
well-fitted  pantaloons  took  the  place  of  the  Indian  leggins, 
and  polished  boots  were  substituted  for  the  gaudy  mocca- 
sons. 

After  we  had  been  several  days  at  St.  Louis  we  heard 
news  of  Tete  Rouge.  He  had  contrived  to  reach  Fort  Leaven- 
worth, where  he  had  found  the  paymaster  and  received  his 
money.  As  a  boat  was  just  ready  to  start  for  St.  Louis,  he 
went  on  board  and  engaged  his  passage.  This  done,  he  imme- 
diately got  drunk  on  shore,  and  the  boat  went  off  without  him. 
It  was  some  days  before  another  opportunity  occurred,  and 
meanwhile  the  sutler's  stores  furnished  him  with  abundant 
means  of  keeping  up  his  spirits.  Another  steamboat  came  at 
last,  the  clerk  of  which  happened  to  be  a  friend  of  his,  and  by 
the  advice  of  some  charitable  person  on  shore,  he  persuaded 
T6te  Rouge  to  remain  on  board,  intending  to  detain  him  there 
until  the  boat  should  leave  the  Fort.  At  first  Tete  Rouge 
was  well  contented  with  this  arrangement,  but  on  applying  for 
a  dram,  the  bar-keeper,  at  the  clerk's  instigation,  refused  to  let 


THE    SETTLEMENTS.  447 

him  have  it.  Finding  them  both  inflexible  in  spite  of  his  en- 
treaties, he  became  desperate  and  made  his  escape  from  the 
boat.  The  clerk  found  him  after  a  long  search  in  one  of  the 
barracks ;  a  circle  of  dragoons  stood  contemplating  him  as  he 
lay  on  the  floor,  maudlin  drunk,  and  crying  dismally.  With 
the  help  of  one  of  them  the  clerk  pushed  him  on  board,  and  our 
informant,  who  came  down  in  the  same  boat,  declares  that  he 
remained  in  great  despondency  during  the  whole  passage. 
As  we  left  St.  Louis  soon  after  his  arrival,  we  did  not  see  the 
worthless,  good-natured  little  vagabond  again. 

On  the  evening  before  our  departure,  Henry  Chatillon  came 
to  our  rooms  at  the  Planters'  House  to  take  leave  of  us.  No 
one  who  met  him  in  the  streets  of  St.  Louis,  would  have  taken 
him  for  a  hunter  fresh  from  the  Rocky  Mountains,  He  was 
very  neatly  and  simply  dressed  in  a  suit  of  dark  cloth  ;  for 
although  since  his  sixteenth  year  he  had  scarcely  been  for 
a  month  together  among  the  abodes  of  men,  he  had  a  native 
good  taste  and  a  sense  of  propriety  which  always  led  him  to 
pay  great  attention  to  his  personal  appearance.  His  tall  ath- 
letic figure  with  its  easy  flexible  motions  appeared  to  advantage 
in  his  present  dress ;  and  his  fine  face,  though  roughened  by  a 
thousand  storms,  was  not  at  all  out  of  keeping  wi^h  it.  We 
took  leave  of  him  with  much  regret ;  and  unless  his  changing 
features,  as  he  shook  us  by  the  hand,  belied  him,  the  feeling 
on  his  part  was  no  less  than  on  ours.*     Shaw  had  given  him  a 

*  I  cannot  take  leave  of  the  reader  without  adding  a  word  of  the  guide 
who  had  served  us  throughout  with  such  zeal  and  fidelity.  Indeed  hia 
services  had  far  surpassed  the  terms  of  his  engagement.  Yet  whoever  had 
been  his  employers,  or  to  whatever  closeness  of  intercourse  they  might  have 
thought  fit  to  admit  him   he  would  never  have  changed  the  bearing  of  quiet 


448  THE    CALIFORNIA    AND    OREGON    TRAIL. 

horse  at  Weslport.  My  rifle,  which  he  had  always  been  fond 
of  using,  as  it  was  an  excellent  piece,  much  better  than  his 
own,  is  now  in  his  liands,  and  perhaps  at  this  moment  its  sharp 
voice  is  startling  the  echoes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  On 
the  next  morning  we  left  town,  and  after  a  fortnight  of  rail- 
roads and  steamboats  we  saw  once  more  the  familiar  features 
of  home. 

respect  which  he  considered  due  to  his  bourgeois.  If  sincerity  and  honor,  a 
boundless  generosity  of  spirit,  a  dehcate  regard  to  the  feelings  of  others, 
and  a  nice  perception  of  what  was  due  to  them,  are  the  essential  character- 
istics of  a  gentleman,  then  Henry  Chatillon  deserves  the  title.  He  could 
not  write  his  own  name,  and  he  had  spent  his  life  among  savages.  In  him 
sprang  up  spontaneously  those  qualities  which  all  the  refinements  of  life  and^ 
intercourse  with  the  highest  and  best  of  the  better  part  of  mankind,  fail  to 
awaken  in  the  brutish  nature  of  some  men.  In  spite  of  his  bloody  calling, 
Henry  was  always  humane  and  mercifiil ;  he  was  gentle  as  a  woman,  though 
braver  than  a  lion.  He  acted  aright  from  the  free  impulses  of  his  large  and 
generous  nature.  A  certain  species  of  selfishness  is  essential  to  the  stern- 
ness of  spirit  which  bears  down  opposition  and  subjects  the  will  of  others  - 
to  its  own.  Heniy's  character  was  of  an  opposite  stamp.  His  easy  good- 
nature almost  amounted  to  weakness ;  yet  while  it  unfitted  him  for  any 
position  of  command,  it  secured  the  esteem  and  good-will  of  all  those  who 
were  not  jealous  of  his  skill  and  reputation. 


THE 


STATES  AND  TERRITOMES 


OF   OUR 


WESTERN   EMPIRE: 


EMBRACING   THE 


HISTORY    STATISTICS  AM  GEOGRAPHY 


or    THE 


TEERITORIAL   REGIONS   OF   THE    UNITED   STxiTES, 


AND   or   THE 


PEINCIPAL  STATES  AND  CHIEF  CITIES  OF  THE  WEST 


THEIR 


CLIITATE,  SOIL,  PRODUCTIONS,  MANUFACTURES,  COMMERCE,  INTERNAL 
IMPROVEMENTS,  POPULATION,  EOT.  ETC. 


OOMPniED    FROM    THE    LATEST    AUTHORITIES. 


) 

COLUMBUS: 

PUBLISHED    AXD    SOLD    EXCLUSIVELY    BY    SUBSCRIPTION, 
BY    J .    &    II .  M  I  L  L  E  R . 

185  7. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 


Fags. 
Washington  Territory. — Boundaries — Face  of  Country — Mountains — Miner- 
als— Rivers,  Bays,  Sounds,  and  Islands — Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists — 
Climate — Soil   and   Productions — Forest   Trees — Animals — Internal   Im- 
Ijroveraents — Population — Counties — Towns — Government 465 

Oregon  Territory. — Boundaries — Face  of  Country — Mountains — Minerals — 
Rivers,  Bays  and  Lakes — Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists — Climate — Soil 
and  Productions — Forest  Trees — Animals  — Manufactures — Commerce — 
Internal  Improvements — Education— Religious  Denominations — Population 
— Counties — Towns — Government  and  History 469 

California. — Boundaries  and  Extent — Face  of  the  Country — Geology — Bays, 
Rivers,  Lakes,  etc. — Objects  of  Interest  to  Travelers — Climate,  Soil  and 
Productions — Forest  Trees — Animals — Manufactures  —  Commerce — Inter- 
nal Improvemeuts — Education — Religion — Public  Institutions — Population 
— Counties,  Cities  and  Towns — Government,  Finances,  etc. — History — San 
Francisco  described — Statistics  of  its  Commerce — Total  Produce  of  Cali- 
fornia Gold — Population  and  History — Sacramento  City  described 475 

Territory  of  Utah. — Its  Boundaries — Face  of  the  Country,  Geology,  etc. — 
Lakes  and  Rivers — Objects  of  Interest — Climate,  Soil  and  Productions — 
Forest  Trees — Animals — Manufactures — Commerce — Education — Religion 
— Counties,  Cities  and  Towns — Population — Government — History — Salt 
Lake  City,  the  Capital 490 

Territory  of  ISTew  Mexico. — Boundaries — Face  of  the  Country — Minerals 
— Rivers — Interesting  Objects — Climate,  Soil  and  Productions  —  Forest 
Trees — Animals — Manufactures  —  Education — Religious  Denominations — 
Periodicals  —  Population — Counties  and  Towns — Government — History — 
Santa  Fe 496 

Texas. — Boundaries  —  Face  of  the  Country — Geology. — Minerals — Rivers, 
Bays  and  Sounds — Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists — Climate,  Soil  and  Pro- 
ductions— Animals — Manufactures — Internal  Improvements — Commerce — 
Religious  Denominations — Public  Institutions — Periodicals — Population — 
Counties,  Cities  and  Towns — Government — History — Galveston 502 

Indian  Territory. — Its  Extent  and  Boundaries — Face  of  the  Country — Rivers 
— Climate,  Soil  and  Productions — Animals — Population 512 

Territory  of  Kansas. — Its  Extent — Face  of  the  Country — Rivers — Objects 
of  Interest — Minerals — Forest  Trees — Zoology — Forts  and  Stations — Popu- 
lation— Indian  Tribes — Government  and  History 514 

Territory  of  Nebraska. — Boundaries — Face  of  the  Country — Rivers — Objects 
of  Interest — Climate,  Soil  and  Timber — Animals — Commerce — Forts  and 
Stations — Population — Indian  Tribes — History 517 

Territory  of  Minnesota. — Boundaries — Face  of  Country — Geology — Minerals 
— Lakes  and  Rivers — Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists — Climate,  Soil  and 
Productions — Forest  Trees — Animals — Manufactures — Internal  Improve- 
ments— Commerce — Education — Public  Institutions Population — Coun- 
ties— Government — History — St.  Paul 522 

Region  of  Lake  Superior. — Its  Area — Navigation  of  the  Lake — Phenomena 
— Mirage  of  the  Lake — Islands — Lake  Coast — ^^Table  of  Distances — La 
Grand  Sables — Pictured   Rocks — Rivers — Minerals — Iron   Regions — Agri- 


4  CONTENTS. 

cultural  Lands — Copper  Regions — Mining  Companies — Clinaate,  Soil  and 
Productions 531 

The  Rockt  Mountains. — Extent— Peaks — Branches — Plateaus — Passes — Ge- 
ology— Volcanic  Rocks — Hot  Springs,  etc 547 

Wisconsin. — Boundaries — ^Face  of  Country — Geology — Minerals — Lakes  and 
Rivers — Objects  of  Interest — Climate,  Soil  and  Productions — Forest  Trees 
— Animals — Manufactures — Commerce — Internal  Improvements  —  Educa-  ! 

lion — Religious  Denominations — Periodicals — Public  Institutions — Popula-  ; 

tion — Counties,  Cities  and  Towns — Government,  Finances,  Banks,  etc. —  j 

History — Milwalkie — Racine — Madison — Keuoslia 550 

Illinois. — Boundaries — Face  of  Country,  etc. — Minerals — Rivers — Objects  of  i 

Interest — Climate,  Soil   and  Productions — Forest   Trees — Manufactures —  j 

Internal   Improvements — Commerce — Education — Religion — Periodicals —  j 
Public  Institutions — Population — Counties,   Cities   and    Towns — Govern- 
luent  —  History — Chicago — Its  Commerce   and  Manufactures  —  Quiucy — 

Peoria — Galena — Alton 562             j 

Indiana. — Boundaries — Face  of  Country — Minerals  —  Rivers  and  Lakes —  !i 
Objects  of  Interest — Climate,  Soil  and  Productions — Census  Statistics — 
Manufactures — Internal  Improvements — Commerce — Education — Eeligious 
Denominations — Periodicals — Public  Institutions — Population — Counties, 
Cities  and  Towns — Government— ^Banks  and  Finances — History — India- 
napolis— Madison — New  Albany — Fort  Wayne — Lafayette 574 

Iowa. — Boundaries — Face  of  Country — Geology — Minerals — Rivers — Objects 
of  Interest — Climate,  Soil  and  Productions — Forest  Trees — Manufactures — 
Internal  Improvements — Commerce — Education — Periodicals — Public  In- 
stitutions— Population — Counties,  Cities  and  Towns — Government — Fiuan-  ! 
ces.  Banks, 'etc. — History — Iowa  City — Burlington — Dubuque — Davenport 
— Keokuk — Muscatine — Council  BluiTs — Fort  Des  Moines — Fort  Madison.     583            ' 

Missouri. — Tlie  Missouri  River  described — Boundaries  of  the  State — Face  of 
the  Country — Minerals — Coal — Rivers — Objects  of  Interest — Climate,  Soil 
and  Productions — Forest  and  Fruit  Trees — Manufactures — Internal  Im- 
provements —  Commerce  —  Education  —  Religion  —  Public  Institutions  — 
Population — Counties,  Cities  and  Towns — Government — Finances — His- 
tory— St.  Louis — Its  Streets,  Public  Buildings,  Hotels,  Institutions,  Real 
Estate,  Improvements,  Manufactures,  Shipping,  Commerce  and  History — 
St.  Josephs — Hannibal — Jefferson  City — Independence,  etc 592 

Arkansas. — Boundaries — Face  of  Country — Objects  of  Interest — Climate,  Soil 
and  Productions — Manufactures — Internal  Improvements — Commerce — 
Population — Counties,  Cities  and  towns — Government — Finances — History 
Little  Rock — Van  Buren — Camden — Batesville 610 

Tennessee. — Boundaries — Face  of  the  Country — Minerals — Objects  of  Interest 
— Climate,  Soil  and  Productions — Manufactures — Internal  Improvements 
— Commerce  —  Education  —  Religion  — Public  Institutions  —  Population — 
Counties,  Cities  and  Towns — Government — Finances — History — Nashville 
— Memphis — Knoxville — Chattanooga — Columbia — Murfreesborough 618 

Kentucky. — Boundaries — Face  of  the  Country — Geology — Minerals — Rivers 
— Objects  of  Interest — Climate,  Soil  and  Productions — Manufactures — Com- 
merce— Internal  Improvements — Education — Religion — Public  Institutions 
— Population — Counties,  Cities  and  Towns — Government — Finances — His- 
tory— Louisville — Lexington 628 

Tables  of  Distances  from  East  to  West •   •  ■ .     635 


STATES  AND  TEREITORIAL  REGIONS. 


WASHINGTON   TERRITORY. 


This  territory  occupies  the  extreme  nortli-west  portion  of  the  domain 
of  the  United  States.  It  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  the  Straits  of  Juan 
de  Fuca  (which  separate  it  from  Vancouver's  island)  and  British 
America,  east  by  the  Rocky  mountains,  south  by  Oregon,  (the  Columbia 
river  forming  about  half  the  boundary  line,)  and  west  by  the  Pacific 
ocean.  It  lies  (with  the  exception  of  a  small  beffd  in  the  Columbia  river) 
between  46°  and  49°  north  latitude,  and  between  110°  and  125°  west 
longitude;  being  about  600  miles  in  its  greatest  length  from  east  to  west, 
and  about  209  in  width  from  north  to  south,  forming  nearly  a  parallelo- 
gram, with  an  area  of  perhaps  123,022  square  miles. 

Face  of  the  Country  and  Mountains. — The  same  general  description 
of  the  surface  as  given  in  Oregon  will  apply  to  Washington,  except  that 
the  Blue  mountain  range  is  more  broken  and  scattered  north  of  the 
Columbia  river.  The  principal  peaks  of  the  Cascade  range  in  this  division 
are  Mount  St.  Helen's,  Mount  Adams,  Mount  Bainier,  and  Mount  Baker. 
Mount  Olympus,  the  highest  peak  of  the  Coast  range,  has  an  elevation  of 
8,197  feet.  Most  of  these  peaks  are  clothed  with  perpetual  snow.  Mount 
I  St.  Helen's  and  Mount  Bainier  have  been  respectively  estimated  at  13,300 

and  12,000  feet  elevation. 

I      Minerals. — There  has  been  little  opportunity  as  yet  to  develop  the  min- 

j  eral  resources  of  this  new  territory.     Coal  has,  however,  been  discovered  on 

:  or  near  Bellingham  bay,  accompanied  by  the  new  red  sandstone,  which 

,  furnishes  a  fine  building  material,  20  or  30  miles  up  the  Cowlitz  river, 

{and  in  the  region  about  Puget's  sound,  in  abundance.     Fossil  copal  exists 

j  on  the  shoi'es  of  the  Pacific,  north  of  the  Columbia  river. 

I     Rivers,  Bays,  Sounds,  and  Islands. — The  Columbia  river  enters  the 

'territory  from  British  America,  and  crosses  it  first  in  a  south-west  and  then 

lin  a  south  direction,  till  it  arrives  a  little  below  46°  north  latitude,  when 

lit  turns  westwardly  and  forms  the  south  boundary,  from  the  point  just 

1  named  to  its  mouth  in  the   Pacific  ocean.     This  river  divides  Washington 

jTerritory  into    two    parts,  having  the  larger  portion   on   the  east;  the 

jOkanagan,  from  British  America,  is  its  principal  branch  on  the  north,  and 

lY^akima  in  the  southern  part  of  the  territory:  both  of  these  rivers  enter  the 

I  30  465 


466  WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 

Columbia  from  tlie  west.  On  the  east,  proceeding  in  order  southwardly, 
its  tributaries  are  the  Flathead  or  Chirke's,  Spokane,  Saptin  or  Lewis, 
and  Walla  Walla  rivers.  The  Clarke's  and  Lewis  are  large  rivers,  having 
their  sources  in  the  Rocky  mountains,  all  run  in  a  north-west  direction. 
The  Lewis  and  Walla  Walla  have  the  principal  part  of  their  courses  in 
Oregon.  The  Spokane  drains  the  middle  of  the  east  division ;  McGillivray'a 
or  Flatbow  drains  the  north-east  part  of  Washington,  and  joins  the 
Columbia  in  British  America.  The  Cowlitz,  the  principal  branch  of  the 
Columbia  west  of  the  Cascade  range,  has  a  course  of  perhaps  100  miles. 
Chekalis  or  Chickalees,  about  130  miles  long,  is  the  only  river  of  importance 
discharging  its  waters  directly  into  the  Pacific  from  this  territory,  except 
the  Columbia.  The  Straits  of  Juan  de  Fuca,  between  Washington  and 
Vancouver's  island,  connect  the  Pacific  ocean  with  Admiralty  inlet, 
Puget's  sound  and  Hood's  canal,  all  arms  of  a  great  bay  extending  about 
60  or  70  miles  in  a  south  direction  from  the  Gulf  of  Georgia,  and  all 
navigable  for  the  largest  ships  which  may  moor  to  the  very  banks,  such  is  the 
precipitousness  of  its  shores.  Gray's  harbor,  an  expansion  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Chekalis  river,  in  about  47°  north  latitude,  has  capacity  for  only 
a  small  amount  of  shiping.  The  Columbia,  though  navigable  for  ocean 
craft  to  the  Cascades,  is  much  obstructed  near  its  mouth  by  sandbars  and 
shallows,  which  make  the  navigation  diflicult,  and  have  caused  the  loss 
of  many  vessels.  The  rest  of  this,  as  well  as  other  rivers  in  Washington, 
are  only  navigable  by  boats  and  canoes,  being  much  obstructed  by  rapids 
and  falls.  The  principal  of  these  are  Kettle  falls,  in  the  Columbia  river, 
just  below  the  mouth  of  Clarke's  river.  Shoalwater  bay,  south  of  Gray's 
harbor,  opens  into  the  Pacific  by  a  narrow  inlet.  Bellingham  bay  is  an  arm 
of  the  Gulf  of  Georgia  near  the  north-west  extremity  of  Washington.  A 
large  lake,  surrounded  by  extensive  prairies,  is  reported  to  have  been  found 
some  10  or  20  miles  back  from  the  bay.  Elliott  bay  is  on  the  east  side 
of  Admiralty  inlet.  There  are  several  lakes  in  Washington,  mostly  in  the 
eastern  portion,  near  the  foot  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  among  which  is 
Flathead  lake,  one  of  the  sources  of  Clark's  river,  and  Lake  Kullespelm 
an  expansion  of  the  same  river.  The  rivers  of  Washington,  particularly 
wes*^  of  the  Cascade  mountains,  having  their  sources  in  those  snowy 
summits,  are  liable  to  sudden  floods,  which  inundate  the  lowlands  on 
their  shores.  The  rapids  and  falls  abound  in  splendid  sites  for  mill-seats. 
Cape  Flattery,  the  entrance  of  Juan  de  Fuca  straits,  and  Cape  Disap- 
pointment, within  the  entrance  of  the  Columbia  river,  are  the  principal 
capes.  There  are  no  large  islands  on  this  coast.  The  most  important  is 
Destruction,  or  Isle  of  Grief,  about  40  miles  south  of  Cape  Flattery. 
In  Admiralty  inlet  is  Whidby's  island,  about  40  miles  long,  covered 
with  fertile  prairies,  and  noted  for  its  deer.  It  has  sufficient  timber,  but 
a  scarcity  of  water.  North-west  of  it  are  the  Arroo  islands,  so  valuable 
for  their  fisheries. 

Objects  of  Interests  to  Tourists. — Washington  shares  with 
Oregon  the  grand  scenery  on  the  Columbia,  the  Cascades,  the  Dalles, 
and  other  interesting  points.  Here  the  loft^  summits  of  Mount  St. 
Helen's,  Mount  Adams,  Mount  Rainier,  and  Mount  Baker  rear  their 
snowy  peaks  from  the   Cascade   range,  and  Mount  Olympus  from  the 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY.  46'i 

I       Coast  mountains.  According  to  the  Rev.  G.  Hines,  ''Mount  St,  Helen's, 

in  the  m!)uth  of  October,  1842,  was  observed  to  be  covered  with  a  dense 

1       cloud  of  smoke,  which  continued  to  enlarge  and  move  off  to  the  eastward, 

filling  the  heavens  in  th:it  direction,  and  presenting  an  appearance  like 

1       th.it  occasioned  by  a  tremenlous  confligration,  viewed  at  a  vast  distance. 

j       Wh  n  the  first  volumes  of  smoke  h^id  p  issel  away,  it  could  be  distinctly 

Been  from  various  part-*  of  the  country  that  an  eruption  had  taken  place 

on  thv!  north  side  of  St.  Helen's,  a  little  below  the  summit;  and,  from 

I       the  smoke  that  continued  to  isue  from  the  chasm  or  crater,  it  was  pro- 

I      nouncod  to  be  avolcani  in  a'tive  operation.     When  the  explosion  took 

1      plat-e,  the  wind  was  nirih-vve>t,  and  on  the  same  day,  and  extending  from 

i      30   -0  50  miles  to   the  sou'h-eas*,  there  fell  showers  of  ashes  or  dust, 

I      which  covered  the  groiui  i   in   so  no   places  so  as  to  admit  of  its  being 

1      collected  in  quantities.     This    last   phenomenon    has  been  of  frequent 

I      occurrence,  an<l  has  le  1  many  to  supp  ise  that  volcanic  eruptions  are  not 

';     un  ■ommon  in  this  country.' 

!         Climate,  Soil,  and  Productions. — The  climate  is  very  similar  to 

1     that  of  Oregon,  with  s  )uie  variations  cause  1  by  difference  of  latitude  and 

i     loeal   peculiarities.       The  same  may  be  sai  1  of  the  soil.      The  Cowlitz 

valley  is  the  most  fertile  p  >rt;oa  of  this  territory,  in  which  agriculture 

1     ha<  been  attempted.      The  Chekalis  valley  on  the  west,  is  said  to  have 

i    400.000    acres   of   excellent   prairie   and   heavily  timbered  land.       The 

country  immediately  around   Puget's  s  )und  is  represented  as  sandy  and 

I    unfertile,  but  producin;^  large  fir  and  cedar  trees.     On  going,  however, 

I    some    distance   back  from  the  sound,  you  come  upon  fine   prairies  and 

;    fore-ts,  and  small  lakis  filled  with  fine    fish  and  skirted  with  timber. 

j    Whidby's  Island  is  also  very  fertile,  but  d /ficient  in  water.     There  are 

■.    repirte  I  to  be  rich  valleys  on  the  streams  flowing  into  Bellingham  bay. 

j   The  valley  of  the  Duwamish  river,  whieh  flows  into  Elliott  bay,  is  very 

I   fertile,  and  is  rapidly  settling.     The  lowlands  bordering  on  the  streams 

I  are  very  productive,  and  covered  densely  vvifh  timber.   Mr.  T.  Winthrop, 

I  of  New   York,  who  left  that  regi  m  in  September,  1853,  speaks  of   the 

j  country  between  Puget's  souml  and  the  Cascade  mountains  as  heavily 

I  timbered,  chiefly  with  fir,  with  some  scattered  prairies  and  dry  barrens,  the 

,  latter  covered  with  pebbles  of  trap-rock,  and  sparsely  wooded  with  oak. 

j  Across    the    mountains,  the   land   is    open    prairie,  well    watered,  with 

i     |.  small  and  thinly  wooded  valleys.       The  country  to  the  north  of    this, 

)     ii  belonging  to  the  Flatheads,  Mr.  W.  reports  as  more  abundant  in  timber 

j;  •  j  and  well  adapted  to  settlements.     The  arable  land  in  Washington   Terri- 

j     I  tory,  west  of  the  Columbia  river,  is  estimated  at  22,000  square  miles. 

5     I  Its  Governor  thus  spoke  of  its  resources  in  January,  1854: — "  You  are 

1(     iTinquestionably  rightly  informed  as  to  the  maritime  advantages  of  Puget's 

ii     i sound,  in  aff'ording  a  series  of  harbors  almost  unequaled  in  the  world  for 

[capacity,  safety,  and  facility  of  access;   nor  need  you  be  told  of  their 

f,    j  neighborhood  to  what  are  now  the  best  whaling  grounds  of  the  Pacific. 

jjj     jit  is,  however,  only    recently  that  the    settlement  of  this  part  of  our 

iji     jcountry  has  commenced  to  develop  its  resources,  or  to  show  the  advan- 

i^     jtage  which  may  be  derived  from  its  position,  and  it  is  these  points  which 

j(     (I  desire  to  bring  to  your  notice.     That  portion  of  Washington  Territory 


468  WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 

lying  between  the  Cascade  mountains  and  the  ocean,  although  equaling 
in  richness  of  soil  and  ease  of  transportation  the  best  portion  of  Oregon, 
is  heavily  timbered,  and  time  and  labor  are  required  for  clearing  its 
forests  and  opening  the  earth  to  the  production  of  its  fruits.  The  great 
body  of  the  country  on  the  other  baud,  stretching  eastward  from  that 
range  to  the  Ilocky  mountains,  while  it  contains  many  fertile  valleys  and 
much  good  land  suited  to  the  farmer,  is  yet  more  especially  a  grazing 
country,  one  -which,  as  population  increases,  promises  in  its  cattle,  its 
horses,  and  above  all,  its  wool,  to  open  a  new  and  vast  field  to  American 
enterprise.  But  in  the  mean  time  the  staple  of  the  laud  must  continue 
to  be  the  one  which  nature  herself  has  planted,  in  the  inexhaustible 
forests  of  fir,  of  spruce,  and  of  cedar.  Either  in  furnishing  manufactured 
timber  or  spars  of  the  first  description  for  vessels,  Washington  Territory 
is  unsurpassed  by  any  portion  of  the  Pacific  coast." 

Forest  Trees. — Washington  abounds  in  fine  timber.  Here  is  the 
same  species  of  gigantic  fir  tree  which  is  found  in  Oregon  and  California, 
attaining  a  hight  of  nearly  300  feet,  and  from  8  to  12  feet  in  diameter. 
The  hills  and  valleys  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  territory,  immediately  west 
of  the  Rocky  mountains,  are  stated  to  be  covered  with  a  heavy  growth 
of  the  finest  timber.  The  forest  trees  around  Puget's  Sound  are  especial- 
ly large,  and  comprise  yellow  fir,  cedar,  maple,  oak,  ash,  spruce,  hemlock 
and  alder.  A  recent  correspondent  states  that  there  are  at  least  12  saw- 
mills at  work,  and  18  more  in  course  of  construction,  and  that  there  is 
lumber  enough  ready  to  freight  a  dozen  ships.  The  cedar  tree  of  this 
region  is  represented  as  differing  in  some  respects  from  either  the  red  or 
white  cedar  of  New  England,  though  resembling  both. 

Animals. — The  forests  abound  in  game  and  wild  animals;  among  the 
latter  are  the  elk,  deer,  bear,  fox,  otter,  beaver,  muskrat,  and  rabbit ;  and 
among  birds,  swans,  geese,  brant,  gulls,  ducks,  eagles,  grouse,  pheasants, 
partridges,  woodcock,  hawks,  ravens,  and  robins.  Perhaps  no  region  on 
the  globe  more  abounds  in  fish  than  Washington.  This  is  especially 
true  of  Puget's  sound  and  the  adjoining  waters.  Cod,  mackerel,  halibut, 
herring,  and  flounders;  and  of  shell-fish,  the  oyster,  crab,  clam,  lobster, 
and  many  other  species  are  found.  The  salmon  resort  to  the  Columbia 
and  its  tributaries  in  immense  shoals. 

Internal  Improvements. — A  road  is  now  being  opened  from 
Puget's  sound  to  Walla  Walla  on  the  Columbia  river,  and  from  thence 
by  the  Coeur  d'Alene  Mission  to  St.  Mary's  valley.  The  emigrants, 
says  Mr,  Winthrop,  partially  succeeded,  in  1853,  in  cutting  a  road 
through  the  pass  of  the  Cascade  mountains  north  of  Mount  Rainier. 
The  exploring  party  under  Governor  Stevens  have  recently  found,  near 
the  sources  of  Maria's  river,  a  pass  suitable  for  a  railroad,  estimated  to 
be  2500  feet  lower  than  the  South  Pass  of  Fremont.  The  same  party 
state  that  they  found  on  the  west  side  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  beau- 
tiful rivers,  and  valleys  of  extraordinary  fertility,  covered  with  a  luxuri- 
ant growth  of  magnificent  forest  trees.  Captain  McClelland  has  discov- 
ered two  passes  through  the  Cascade  range  practicable  for  a  railroad. 

Population. — Of  its  population  we  have  no  separate  statistics.  There 
are  several  tribes  of  Indians,  among  which  are  the   Flatheads,   Pend 


OREGON  TERRITORY. 


469 


d'Oreilles,  Coeur  d'Alenes,  Spokancs,  and  Nez  Perces,  most  of  whom  are 
friendly,  and  those  on  Puget's  sound  partially  civilized.  They  are  in 
constant  intercourse  with  the  whites,  farming  and  raising  potatoes,  which, 
with  the  salmon,  constitute  their  food. 

Counties. — Washington  is  divided  into  15  counties,  which,  with  their 
county  towns,  are  exhibited  in  the  following  Table: 


County.  County  Sent. 

1.  Chelialis Bruceville. 

2.  Clallam  Port  Discovery. 

3.  Clark Columbia  city. 

4.  CowlitsorCowelitz.  .Monticello. 

5.  Island Pennscove. 

6.  Jefferson Port  Townsend. 

7.  King Seattle. 

8.  Lewis Cowlitz'  landino; 


County,  County  Seat. 

9.  Pacific Pacific  city. 

10.  Pierce Steilacoom. 

1 1 .  Skamania Cascades. 

12.  Thurston Olympia. 

13.  W4hkiacum Chenook. 

14.  Walla  Walla Walla  Walla. 

15.  Whatcom Bellingham  bay. 


Towns. — Olympia,  the  capital,  is  situated  at  the  head  of  Puget's 
sound.  The  other  more  important  towns  or  settlements  are  Nesqually, 
Steilacoom,  New  York,  Seattle,  Port  Townsend,  and  New  Duugeness,  on 
Puget's  sound  and  Admiralty  inlet ;  Pacific  city,  Cathlamet,  Monticello, 
Fort  Vancouver,  and  Cascade  city,  on  the  Columbia  river;  Cowlitz 
farms  and  Wabassport,  on  or  near  the  Cowlitz  river,  and  Pennscove,  on 
Whiddy's  island. 

Government. — The  government  is  in  all  respects  similar  to  that  of 
Oregon,  which  see.  Its  history  is  also  identical  with  that  of  Oregon, 
from  which  it  was  separated  and  formed  into  a  distinct  territory  in  1853. 


OREGON   TERRITOEY 


I  This  territory,  forming  the  most  western  portion  of  the  domain  of  the 
lUnited  States,  as  restricted  by  the  recent  Act  of  Congress,  creating 
fthe  Territory  of  Washington,  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Washington 
jTerritory,  (from  which  it  is  separated  by  the  Columbia  river  and  the  46th 
jparallel  of  north  latitude ;)  east  by  the  Ptocky  mountains,  which  divide  it 
from  Nebraska;  south  by  Utah  Territory  and  the  State  of  California,  and 
'jrest  by  the  Pacific  ocean.  It  lies  between  42°  and  46°  20'  north  lat- 
itude, and  betweea  109°  30'  and  124°  30'  west  longitude,  being  about 
|r50  miles  in  extreme  length  from  east  to  west,  and  278  miles  in  width, 
[deluding  an  area  of  185,030  square  miles. 


470  OREGON  TERRITORY. 

Face  of  the  Country,  Mountains,  etc.— Oregon  is  usually  divided 
into  three  portion,s,  viz:  the  Lower  countr}',  or  portion  next  the  ocean  ;  the 
Miildlc  country,  or  that  part  which  lies  between  the  Cascade  range  and  the 
Blue  mountains;  and  the  Upper  country,  or  that  portion  which  lies  between 
the  Blue  and  Rocky  mountains.  On  approaching  Oregon  from  the  sea,  it 
presents  the  same  bold,  iron-bound  coast  as  California,  but  with  this  differ- 
ence, that  the  Coast  range,  instead  of  running  parallel  with  the  Pacific,  is 
composed  of  a  series  of  highlands,  nearly  at  right  angles  with  the  shore, 
through  whose  valleys  the  streams  of  Callapuya  or  Callapooya  mountains 
(the  western  limit  of  the  Willamette  valley)  descend  to  the  ocean.  The 
first  section  is  about  from  75  to  120  miles  in  breadth,  and  includes  the  Willa- 
mette, Umpqua,  and  Eogue  river  valleys,  the  first  running  parallel  with 
the  sea,  and  the  others  at  right  angles  to  it.  The  last  are  south  of  the 
AVillamette  valley.  The  large  valleys  vary  in  length  from  40  to  150 
miles,  and  from  5  to  85  miles  in  width.  One  remarkable  feature  of  the 
Willamette  valley  is  the  Buttes,  high,  conical,  insulated  hills,  of  about 
1000  feet  in  hight.  The  Middle  section  covers  a  breadth  of  160  miles, 
and  is  mostly  an  elevated  plateau.  The  Upper  country  occupies  the 
western  slope  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  is  mostly  a  sterile  and  dreary 
region,  covered  with  lava,  through  which  the  rivers  cut^heir  channels  to 
a  great  depth ;  in  many  places  their  rocky  beds  are  inaccessible  to  man 
or  beast.  Oregon  maybe  emphatically  called  a  mountainous  country. 
Beginning  at  the  east,  we  have  the  lofty  summits  of  the  Rocky  mountains 
— reaching  (in  Fremont's  peak)  an  elevation  of  13,570  feet — separating 
the  Mississippi  valley  from  the  Pacific  region,  and  sending  ofi"  spurs  in  a 
westerly  direction.  About  half-way  between  the  Rocky  mountains  and 
the  Pacific  are  the  Blue  mountains,  running  nearly  north  and  south,  but 
still  sending  ofi"  ridges  in  difi'erent  directions.  These  mountains  some- 
times rise  to  the  snow  region,  but  are  generally  from  3,000  to  4,000  feet 
in  hight.  The  Cascade  range,  having  the  loftiest  known  peaks  of  any 
mountains  in  the  United  States,  extend  from  60°  north  latitude  (nearly 
parallel  with  the  Pacific)  to  the  southern  part  of  Old  California,  at 
distances  (in  Oregon)  varying  from  about  80  to  140  miles.  Mount 
Hood,  Mount  Jefierson,  Mount  Pitt  or  McLaughlin  are  the  principal 
peaks  in  Oregon,  of  which  the  first,  14,000  feet  in  elevation  above  the 
sea  level,  is  the  highest,  and  seems  to  be  a  dormant  volcano.  Finally 
comes  the  Coast  range,  called  in  Oregon  the  Callapooya  mountains;  these, 
as  has  been  stated,  send  ofi"  spurs  at  right  angles  with  the  ocean.  The  ^ 
Three  Buttes  and  Three  Tctons,  about  the  bases  of  the  Rocky  moun- 
tains, are  conical  elevations  of  considerable  magnitude.  The  Salmon 
mountains  cross  the  middle  of  the  eastern  portion  of  Oregon  in  an  east 
and  west  direction. 

Minerals. — The  mineral  resources  of  Oregon  have  scarcely  begun  to 
be  developed;  but  gold  has  been  found  in  various  places,  from  Po'-t  Or- 
ford  to  Burnt  and  Powder  rivers,  but  whether  it  exists  in  s-  /Sclent 
abundance  to  promise  profitable  returns  is  not  yet  fully  ascertain'  ''..  The 
Secretary  of  the  Treasury's  report  for  1854,  gives  $13,535  as  tb  amount 
of  gold  deposited  at  the  Mint,  the  product  of  Oregon.  Frem'  /it  found, 
in  latitude  45 J°  north,  longitude  122°  west,  a  stratum  of  coal  bad  forest 


OREGON  TERRITORY.  471 

trees  embedded  Ketween  strata  of  alternate  clay.     This  mineral  is  also 
known  to  exist  in  Willamette  valley,  100  miles  above  Oregon  city. 

Rivers,  Bays,  and  Lakes. — There  is  no  very  considerable  bay  in 
Oregon.  The  Columbia,  the  greatest  river  on  the  Pacific  slope  oi  the 
continent,  forms  half  the  northern  boundary,  from  the  point  where  it 
strikes  the  46th  parallel  to  its  mouth  in  the  Pacific  ocean.  Its  great 
branch,  the  Snake  or  Lewis  river,  and  its  tributaries,  the  Salmon,  Henry, 
Malheur,  and  Owyhee,  drain  the  great  valley  between  the  Rocky  and 
Blue  mountains.  Lewis  river  rises  in  the  south-east,  and  pursuing  a 
north-west  course  about  900  miles,  passes  into  Washington  Ten-itory, 
where  it  joins  the  Columbia  soon  after.  The  Walla  Walla,  Umatilla,  John 
Day's,  and  Fall,  east  of  the  Cascade  mountains,  and  the  Willamette, 
west,  are  the  other  principal  afiluents  of  the  Columbia  from  this  territory. 
The  Umpqua  and  Rogue's  river  (entirely  in  Oregon),  and  the  Klamath, 
which  passes  into  California,  empty  directly  into  the  Pacific  from  the 
south-west  of  this  territory.  There  are  several  small  lakes  between  the 
Cascade  and  Blue  mountains,  and  near  the  base  of  the  Rocky  mountains. 
The  principal  of  the  former  are  Klamath,  Albert,  Pitt's,  Salt,  and  Synal- 
illes;  and  of  the  latter  Godere  and  Jackson's.  The  Columbia  is  naviga- 
ble to  the  Cascade  range,  about  130  miles  from  the  sea,  for  large  vessels, 
and  above  the  Cascades  for  boats.  The  Willamette  is  navigable  to  Port- 
land, and  sometimes  even  to  the  falls,  for  ocean  craft.  Above  the  falls, 
large  steamboats  may  run  for  80  miles  during  8  months.  The  Umpqua 
is  navigable  25  miles  for  steamers,  and  vessels  drawing  12  feet  may  enter 
its  mouth.  The  Klamath  is  also  navigable  for  a  short  distance.  There 
are  few  capes  or  harbors  on  the  coast  of  Oregon,  which  is  remarkably 
free  from  great  sinuosities.  The  most  important  capes  are  Cape  Blanco 
or  Orford,  Cape  Foulweather,  and  Point  Adams.  The  harbors  are  the 
Columbia  river,  much  obstructed  by  sandbars  and  shoals,  but  admitting 
vessels  of  16  feet  draught,  and  the  Umpqua  river,  which  may  be 
ascended  by  vessels  drawing  8  feet  water  for  a  short  distance. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — What  we  have  already  said  of 
the  mountains  is  perhaps  sufficient,  without  this  heading ;  but  Oregon 
has  other  objects  of  interest  independent  of  her  sublime  mountain 
scenery — first  among  which  are  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia  river,  a  nar- 
rowing of  the  channel  to  100  yards  between  basaltic  rocks,  for  the  dis- 
tance of  half  a  mile,  through  which  the  river  rushes  with  great  violence, 
descending  50  feet  in  two  miles.  In  freshets  the  water  rises  60  feet,  and 
at  such  times  it  is  safe  to  pass  in  boats,  but  many  serious  accidents  have 
occurred  from  attempts  to  pass  them  at  low  water.  Forty  miles  below 
the  Dalles,  where  the  river  breaks  through  the  Cascade  range,  the  chan- 
nel again  narrows  to  150  yards,  where  the  water  descends  40  feet  in  two 
miles.  The  falls  of  the  Willamette,  on  the  river  of  the  same  name,  ar 
about  25  miles  from  its  mouth,  and  the  same  number  of  feet  in  hight. 
Here  is  a  favorite  salmon  fishery,  where  that  fish  is  stopped  on  its  course 
up  the  Willamette,  in  the  spawning  season.  The  American  fall,  in  the 
Lewis  river,  near  its  head  waters,  is  of  considerable  elevation.  From  one 
point  in  the  Willamette  valley,  near  the  Rickreall  river,  seven  peaka  of 
the  Cascade  range,  covered  with  everlasting  snow,  can  be  seen  at  one  view. 


472  UKiSGOM  TERRITOKl. 

Climate. — In  common  with  the  western  -shore  oT  all  continents, 
Oregon  has  a  milder  climate  than  the  eastern  side  of  North  America. 
The  coast  region  is  the  mildest,  and  the  upper  country  the  most  rigorous 
in  temperature.  In  the  first,  the  winters  generally  are  short,  though 
some  snow  falls  nearly  every  winter.  South  and  south-west  winds  pre- 
vail at  this  season,  mitigating  the  severity  of  the  climate.  From  April 
to  November  but  little  rain  falls.  At  Fort  Vancouver,  from  June  to 
September,  the  mean  temperature  was  67°,  maximum  98°,  minimum  51°. 
Of  lOG  days,  7G  were  fair,  19  cloudy,  and  11  irainy.  The  winter  of 
1852-3  was  very  severe,  and  much  snow  fell,  the  stock  dying  by  thou- 
sands, as  they  are  unhoused,  and  no  fodder  is  ever  prepared.  In  the 
middle  region,  the  summers  are  much  dryer  and  the  winters  colder  than 
east  of  the  Cascade  mountains,  the  extremes  varying  from  18°  to  108°. 
Daily  range,  40°.  No  dews  fall  here.  The  upper  country  is  variable, 
having  often  in  each  day  all  the  changes  of  the  seasons,  and  is  therefore 
unfitted  for  agricultural  operations.  Indian  corn  is  liable  to  be  caught 
by  early  frosts.  The  winter  winds  are  from  the  south  and  east,  occasion- 
ally veering  to  south-west.  The  time  of  the  setting  in  of  these  is  very 
irregular,  varying  from  October  1st  to  January  1st.  They  always  bring 
with  them  copious  rains,  which  last  two  or  three,  and  even  four  or  five 
months,  from  November  to  April,  and  constitute  the  rainy  season. 
These  storms  are  more  violent  on  the  coast,  and  more  rain  falls  than  in 
the  Willamette  valley.  A  period  of  fine  weather  often  occurs  in  Feb- 
ruary, sometimes  in  March,  but  is  generally  followed  by  three  or  four 
weeks  of  cold,  chilly  rains  from  the  south-west.  During  the  latter  part 
of  winter  there  are  light  falls  of  snow.  Though  the  winters  are  chilly, 
the  thermometer  seldom  sinks  to  the  freezing  point.  The  mercury  has 
sometimes  fallen  to  5°  degrees  below  zero  in  the  Willamette  valley,  and 
to  15°  at  the  Dalles,  bej^ond  the  Cascade  mountains.  From  what  has 
been  said  it  will  be  seen  that  there  is  great  irregularity  in  the  winters  of 
Oregon,  but  mildness  is  the  general  characteristic.  In  the  middle  region 
the  rains  are  lighter  and  less  constant,  and  continue  for  a  shorter  period. 
The  country  between  the  Blue  and  Rocky  mountains  is  very  dry,  with  a 
great  difference  between  the  temperature  of  day  and  night. 

Soil  and  Productions. — It  will  be  inferred  from  what  has  been  said 
of  the  face  of  the  country,  that  much  of  Oregon  is  unfit  for  tillage;  in 
the  upper  country  or  eastern  portion  it  is  almost  wholly  so,  as  far  as 
known,  both  from  the  aridity  of  the  soil,  and  the  irregularity  of  the 
climate.  The  central  portion,  though  not  generally  cultivable,  affords  in 
many  places  excellent  pasturage;  but  even  the  pastoral  portion  is  but  a 
small  part  of  the  whole.  The  great  resource  of  the  Oregonian  farmers 
js  the  country  west  of  the  Qascade  range,  especially  in  the  Willamette, 
Umpqua,  and  Rogue's  river  valleys.  The  former  is  rarely  surpassed 
in  fertility.  Wheat  is  here  the  staple ;  the  cool  evenings  and  the  drought 
in  the  latter  part  of  summer  being  unfavorable  to  Indian  corn.  Besides 
wheat,  oats,  barley,  turnips,  and  most  of  the  fruits  and  vegetables  of  the 
Middle  States  flourish.  The  indigenous  fruits  are  the  crabapple,  a  large 
red  plum,  strawberries,  raspberries,  and  other  berries.  The  bottoms  of 
the  Columbia  are  a  very  rich  alluvion^  but  incapable  of  cultivation,  from 


OREGON   TERRITORY.  473 

tLeir  liability  to  be  overflowed;  they  may,  however,  form  good  pasture- 
lands  for  stock.  Those  portions  which  are  beyond  the  reach  of  overflow 
(as  the  district  about  Fort  Vancouver)  are  exceedingly  productive.  On 
the  triangle  formed  by  the  Columbia  on  the  north  and  the  Pacific  on  the 
west,  is  a  tract  of  land  of  great  fertility,  extending  back  25  miles  to  the 
mountains.  This  is  not  suited  to  wheat,  but  very  fruitful  in  potatoes, 
oats,  peas,  turnips,  and  other  vegetables,  and  is  excellent  for  pasturage. 
According  to  the  census  of  1850,  Oregon  had  under  cultivation  132,857 
acres  of  land,  producing  211,942  bushels  of  wheat;  lOG  of  rye;  2,913 
of  Indian  corn;  61,214  of  oats ;  6,566  of  peas  and  beans;  d\,'i'26  of 
potatoes;  29,686  pounds  of  wool;  211,464  of  butter;  36,980  of  cheese; 
orchard  products  valued  at  $1,271;  market  products,  $90,241;  live  stock, 
$1,876,189;  and  slaughtered  animals,  $164,530. 

Forest  Trees. — Oregon  is  particularly  celebrated  for  its  forests  of 
gigantic  pine.  A  species  of  fir,  called  Lambert's  pine,  grows  in  the  lower 
region  to  an  enormous  size,  sometimes  attaining  a  bight  of  nearly  300 
feet,  and  a  girth  of  40  feet,  and  often  from  24  to  36  feet.  This  is  the 
great  timber  of  the  country,  and  is  largely  exported  to  the  Sandwich 
Islands  and  to  California.  The  other  timber  is  the  hemlock,  cedar,  oak 
ash,  maple,  laurel,  pine,  willow,  balm  of  Grilead,  dogwood,  cottonwood  and 
alder.  The  oak,  next  to  the  fir,  is  the  most  valuable  wood,  and  is  found 
mostly  in  the  Willamette  and  Umpqua  valleys.  In  the  middle  region 
timber  is  scarce,  and  consists  mostly  of  soft  wood ;  pine  and  fir  grow  on 
the  Blue  mountains. 

AniiMALS. — The  wild  animals  are  deer,  black  and  grizzly  bears,  elks, 
foxes,  wolves,  antelopes,  beavers,  muskrats  and  martens.  The  beavers  are 
fast  diminishing.  In  spring  and  fiill,  geese,  ducks,  and  other  waterfowl 
are  abundant.  Large  quantities  of  salmon  are  caught  in  the  Columbia 
river  and  its  tributaries,  and  are  of  excellent  quality.  Among  the  other 
fish  are  sturgeon,  cod,  carp,  sole,  flounders,  ray,  perch,  herring,  and  smelt, 
with  crabs,  clams,  oysters,  and  mussels  in  abundance. 

Manufactures. — In  this  department  of  industry  it  is  hardly  to  be 
supposed  that  this  new  region  has  made  much  progress,  though  she  has 
every  facility  for  carrying  on  manufactures  when  the  time  comes  for  doing 
so.  In  1850  there  were  52  establishments  engaged  in  mining,  manufac- 
turing, and  the  mechanic  arts,  employing  $843,600,  and  285  male  and  32 
female  hands,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $809,500,  and  yielding 
products  valued  at  $2,236,640. 

Internal  Improvements  are  limited,  as  yet,  to  common  and  plank 
road  making.  Dr.  Evans,  geologist  to  Governor  Stevens'  exploring  expe- 
dition, reports  a  new  route  south  of  the  Missouri  river,  feasible  for  a 
railroad  through  the  Black  Feet  Pass,  down  the  Bitter  Root  river,  cross- 
ing the  mountains  of  the  same  name  to  Fort  Walla  Walla  and  the  Dalles. 

Commerce. — We  have  but  few  facts  on  this  subject.  The  foreign 
imports  amounted  in  1853-4  to  $48,932,  and  the  exports  to  $42,827; 
tonnage  entered  to  231,  and  cleared  to  1,003  tons.  Several  steamers  ply 
from  Portland  to  diff"erent  points  on  the  Columbia,  beside  a  regular  line 
of  steamers  to  San  Francisco.  Oregon  exports  to  California,  lumber, 
stock,  hogs,  beef,  butter,  eggs,  chickens,  pork,  flour,  etc.     Large  quantities 


474  OREGON    TERRITORY. 

of  cattle  arc  driven  south  to  the  mines  of  California.  Trade  is  carried  on 
vith  Rio  Janerio,  Europe,  and  the  Sandwich  Islands.  In  10  months 
procedint^  August,  1854,  the  arrivals  at  Astoria  were  179,  clearances  184. 
The  export  of  lumber  alone  reached  22,567,000  feet. 

Education. — The  census  report  for  1850  gives  to  Oregon  3  public 
y^hools  witli  80  pupils,  and  83,927  income;  29  academies  with  842  pupils, 
and  S20,888  income;  and  1,877  pupils  attending  schools,  as  returned  by 
families.  Adults  who  could  not  read  and  write  102,  of  whom  G3  were  of 
foreign  birth.  Oregon  Institute,  belonging  to  the  Methodists,  6  miles 
from  Salem,  is  a  flourishing  establishment,  with  about  100  students.  The 
Presbyterians  have  an  academy  on  Tualatin  Plains,  and  there  are  two 
female  institutes  at  Oregon  city. 

Religious  Denominations. — Of  the  9  churches  in  Oregon  in  1850, 
1  each  belonged  to  the  Baptists,  Congregationalists,  Methodists  and  Pres- 
byterians, and  5  to  the  Roman  Catholics,  being  one  church  to  every  1,477 
persons.     Value  of  church  property,  $76,520. 

Population. — The  population  of  Oregon,  including  the  present  Terri- 
tory of  Washington,  was,  in  1850,  13,294,  of  whom  8,133  were  white 
males,  4,949  females;  120  colored  males,  and  87  females;  besides  various 
tribes  of  Indians  not  enumerated,  but  estimated  by  the  Commissioner  of 
Indian  Affairs,  in  1853,  at  23,000,  for  Washington  and  Oregon  united. 
Notwithstanding  the  formation  of  Washington  Territory  from  Oregon,  so 
great  has  been  the  influx  of  emigration,  that  the  figures  given  above  very 
inadequately  represent  the  population  of  the  territory,  which,  if  recent 
statements  may  be  relied  on,  has  more  than  quadrupled  since  that  time. 
The  increase  has  been  such  as  to  induce  the  inhabitants  to  sue  for  admis- 
sion as  a  state,  in  1855.  Of  the  population,  3,175  were  born  in  the 
territory;  8,847  in  other  states  of  the  Union;  207  in  England;  196  in 
Ireland;  115  in  Scotland  and  Wales;  293  in  British  America;  155  in 
Germany;  45  in  France;  148  in  other  countries;  and  143  whose  places 
of  birth  were  unknown;  5  were  insane,  and  4  idiotic. 

Counties. — In  1855,  Oregon  had  20  counties,  viz:  Benton,  Clackamas, 
Clark,  Clatsop,  Columbia,  Douglas,  Jackson,  Lane,  Lewis,  Linn,  Marion, 
Multnomah,  Pacific,  Polk,  Thurston,  Umpqua,  Vancouver,  Washington, 
Wascopum,  and  Yam-Hill. 

Towns. — The  principal  towns  are  Portland  (population  in  1853,  6,000), 
Oregon  city,  Salem,  and  Milton,  having  eacli  about  1,000  inhabitants. 

Government. — The  government  is  similar  to  that  of  all  other  territo- 
ries.— See  New  Mexico,  etc. 

History. — Oregon  seems  to  have  been  first  trodden  by  European  feet 
about  1775,  when  a  Spanish  navigator  visited  Juan  de  Fuca  straits. 
Cook  coasted  along  its  shores  in  1778.  The  Columbia  river  is  believed 
to  have  first  made  known  to  the  civilized  world  in  1791,  by  Captain  Gray, 
of  the  ship  Columbia,  of  Boston,  United  States,  who  saw  the  mouth  of 
the  river,  but  did  not  enter  it  till  May  of  the  next  year,  when  he  gave  it 
the  name  of  his  ship.  From  this  time  up  to  1804,  the  coast  of  Oregon 
■was  occasionally  visited  by  British  and  American  fur-traders.  In  that 
year,  President  Jefferson  sent  out  an  exploring  party,  under  Lewis  and 
Clarke,  who  passed  the  winter  of  1805-6  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia. 


CALIFORNIA.  475 

After  this  period,  overland  expeditions  by  fur-traders  became  common, 
and  these,  with  the  British  Hudson  Bay  Company,  held  joint  possession 
of  the  country  (but  not  without  jealous  rivalries  and  bloody  contests), 
till  the  treaty  of  1846,  which  gave  all  below  49°  north  latitude  to  the 
United  States.  Emigration  from  the  United  States,  for  the  purpose  of 
settlement,  commenced  in  1839.  Its  growth  for  the  time  is  probably 
retarded  by  the  gold  mines  of  California  attracting  nearly  all  travelers 
and  settlers,  but  their  ultimate  prosperity  will  most  likely  be  mutual,  the 
mining  population  of  the  one  furnishing  a  market  for  the  agricultural 
products  of  the  other.  There  is  no  doubt  that  in  future  times  Oregon 
will  play  an  important  part  in  the  commerce  of  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and 
particularly  that  of  the  Polynesian  groups.  In  1853  the  territory  of 
Washington  was  separated  from  the  north  part  of  Oregon. 


CALIFORNIA. 


California  is  the  most  western  of  the  present  United  States,  and  is 
bounded  on  the  north  by  Oregon,  east  by  Utah,  (from  which  it  is  partly 
separated  by  the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains,)  and  New  Mexico  south  by 
the  Mexican  Territory  of  Old  Ciilifornia,  and  west  by  the  Pacific.  It 
lies  between  32°20''  and  42°  north  lat.,and  between  about  114°20^and 
124°  30^  west  longitude.  California  is  very  irregular  in  shape,  having 
its  greatest  length  (about  720  miles)  in  a  north-west  and'  south-east 
direction,  and  is  about  240  miles  in  breadth,  including  an  area  of 
188,982  square  miles,  or  120,000,000  acres. 

Face  of  thk  Country. — As  the  voyager  sails  along  the  coast  of 
California,  he  looks  upon  a  low  range  of  mountains,  which  in  many  in 
stances  approach  to  the  water's  edge,  and  form  a  bluff,  iron-bound  coast, 
through  which  it  enters,  by  a  narrow  strait  named  the  Golden  Gate,  the 
Bay  of  San  Francisco.  Following  these  low  mountains  on  the  coast 
north  of  the  Golden  Gate,  is  a  broken  and  hilly  country,  to  which  suc- 
ceeds the  Coast  range,  entering  from  Oregon,  and  extending  nearly 
parallel  with  the  ocean,  at  distances  varying  from  30  to  100  miles,  till  it 
reaches  the  35th  parallel  of  north  latitude,  where  it  unites  with  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  and  passes  into  Old  California.  This  range  varies  gen- 
erally from  500  to  5,000  feet.  Mount  Linn,  in  latitude  40°,  is  the 
hightest  known  peak  of  this  part  of  the  Coast  range,  but  its  latitude  has 
not  been  ascertained.     South  of  the  Golden  Gate,  San  Bernardino,  in 


476  CALIFORNIA. 

latitude  34°,  attains  an  elevation  of  about  17,000  feet.  In  this  portion, 
between  the  Sierra  Morena  mountains  (near  the  Pacific)  and  the  Coast 
range,  lie  the  valleys  of  the  San  Juan  and  of  the  Buenaventura,  which 
have  their  outlets  in  the  Pacific  ocean.  The  latter  is  GO  miles  long,  and 
from  15  to  20  wide.  The  Sierra  Morena,  or  Brown  mountains  (2,000 
feet  high,)  descend  toward  the  Golden  Gate,  of  which  they  form  the 
southern  wall.  The  mountains  immediately  on  the  coasts  bear  various 
local  names.  Table  Hill,  on  the  north  side  of  the  strait  leading  into 
San  Francisco  bay,  is  2,569  feet  high,  and  Mount  Diablo,  east  of  San 
Francisco,  3,770  feet  in  hight.  Near  the  northern  boundary  of  the 
State,  in  a  spur  of  mountains  running  north-east  from  the  Coast  range 
to  the  Sierra  Nevada,  is  Mount  Shasta,  having  an  elevation  of  14,400 
feet;  it  is  covered  with  perpetual  snow.  In  Shasta  county  is  also  Mount 
St.  Joseph's,  12,000  feet  high.  The  great  valley  of  the  Sacramento  and 
San  Joaquin  extends  from  north  to  south  about  500  miles,  with  an 
average  breadth  of  about  60  miles,  bounded  by  the  Coast  range  on  the 
west,  and  by  the  Sierra  Nevada  on  the  east.  From  a  base  of 
about  500  feet  above  the  sea  commences  the  ascent  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  the  acclivities  being  wooded  to  about  half  the  mountain's 
hight  with  oak,  succeeded  by  a  forest  of  gigantic  pines,  cedars,  and 
cypress  ;  then  follows  the  naked  granite,  and  lastly,  the  summits  crowned 
with  perpetual  snow.  At  the  north  end  of  the  Sacramento  valley  is  a 
second  higher  valley,  of  about  100  miles  in  length,  and  some  thousands 
of  feet  in  elevation,  heavily  timbered,  and  containing  tracts  of  arable 
land  along  the  streams.  The  Sierra  Nevada  range  may  be  regarded  as  a 
continuation  of  the  Cascade  mountains  of  Oregon.  It  extends  almost 
directly  south,  till  it  unites  with  the  Coast  range  in  latitude  34°  north, 
forming  in  its  course  the  east  boundary  of  California,  as  far  as  the  39th 
degree  of  north  latitude,  near  which  is  Fremont's  Pass,  7,200  feet  above 
the  sea  level.  There  is  a  volcano  in  Calaveras  county,  near  the  sources  of 
Jackson's  river.  On  the  western  slope  of  these  mountains,  mostly  between 
37°  and  40°  north  latitude,  are  the  celebrated  "  gold  diggings,"  toward 
which  the  eyes  of  those  "  who  make  haste  to  be  rich"  have  been  so 
eagerly  turned  since  the  first  discovery  of  gold  in  Sutter's  mill-race 
in  1847. 

Geology. — We  have  had  no. full  and  complete  geological  survey  of 
California.  According  to  Mr.  Tyson's  survey,  speaking  generally,  a  sec- 
tion across  the  State,  from  Bodga  bay,  bearing  from  north  80°  east 
to  the  Sierra  Nevada,  exhibits  first,  on  the  western  side,  in  the  coast 
range,  a  sandstone  formation,  with  interpositions  of  leptinite,  clays, 
trachyte,  talcose  slate,  and  trap  rocks;  while  the  recent  sedimentary 
deposits  of  the  Sacramento  valley  rest  upon  beds  of  conglomerate  sand- 
stone and  clay,  and  the  western  declivities  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  consist 
mainly  of  talcose  and  other  slates,  through  which  are  extruded  trappean 
rocks,  leptinite,  granite,  and  serpentine.  A  similar  section  across  the 
Stiite  from  San  Francisco  bay,  bearing  north  70°  east,  exhibits  sand- 
stones with  some  fossil  deposits  east  of  the  bay,  on  the  west  slope,  con- 
glomerate  sandstone,  and  slates,  with  trap,  volcanic  tufa,  and  porphyry. 

Minerals. — It  is  almost  superfluous  to  say  that  California  is  one  of 


CALIFORNIA.  477 

the  most  important  mineral  regions  in  the  world,  particularly  in  its 
deposits  of  gold.  The  great  gold  diggings  lie  on  the  western  slope  of 
the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains,  principally  between  37°  and  40°  north 
latitude;  but  the  precious  mineral  has  also  been  found  in  other  quarters 
in  considerable  quantities,  particularly  in  Klamath  county,  in  the  north- 
west, and  in  Shasta  county.  The  gold  first  discovered  was  evidently  not 
in  place,  but  the  washings  from  the  upper  regions;  and  when  that  shall 
have  been  exhausted,  there  are  large  bodies  of  auriferous  quartz,  which 
(with  greater  labor  and  expense)  will  probably  afford  large  supplies  of 
this  metal  for  generations  to  come.  The  amount  of  capital  invested  in 
quartz  mining,  according  to  the  State  census  of  1852,  was  $5,871,401; 
in  placer  and  other  mining  operations,  $3,851,023.  Up  to  November  1, 
1853,  there  had  been  deposited  at  the  United  States  mints,  $204,891,023 
of  California  gold.  The  total  amount  produced  and  distributed  in  all 
directions  down  to  the  close  of  1854,  is  estimated  at  $298,243,938. 
According  to  the  State  census  of  1852,  about  14,000,000  were  invested 
in  mining  operations.  In  addition  to  the  precious  metal  just  noticed, 
there  has  been  found  in  Butte  county  an  abundance  of  quicksilver, 
platina,  iron,  lead,  and  some  silver;  copper  and  silver,  quicksilver,  pla- 
tina,  asphaltum,  marble,  and  granite  occur  in  Marin  county ;  black 
marble  in  Shasta  ;  a  fine-grained  white  marble  and  free-stone  in  Calaveras; 
a  splendid  ledge  of  pure  white  marble  on  the  middle  fork  of  Feather 
river ;  quicksilver  in  Napa ;  rich  silver-mines  and  coal  in  San  Louis 
Obispo;  quicksilver  in  Santa  Clara;  copious  salt  springs  (sufficient, 
report  says,  to  supply  the  State)  in  Shasta;  bituminous  springs  in 
many  places  along  the  coast,  and  hot  sulphur  springs  in  Santa 
Barbora ;  warm  soda  springs  near  Benicia,  in  Solano ;  bituminous  and 
sulphur  springs  in  San  Louis  Obispo;  and  hot,  asphaltum,  and  salt 
springs  in  Los  Angeles  county.  According  to  Professor  Trask,  "platina 
is  widely  distributed ;  scarcely  a  section  of  country  where  gold  has 
been  found,  but  that  this  metal  has  been  discovered."  Silver  has  been 
found  in  several  mines  in  the  southern  district,  copper  is  widely  dis- 
tributed, and  chromium  occurs  in  large  qvxantities  in  serpentine  rocks. 
Diamonds  are  reported  to  have  been  recently  discovered.  The  quicksil- 
ver mines  of  New  Almaden  yield  from  20,000  to  35,000  pounds  per 
week.     Value  exported  from  San  Francisco  in  1853,  $083,189. 

Bays,  Kivers,  Lakes,  etc. — San  Francisco  bay,  the  best  and  most 
capacious  harbor  on  the  Pacific  coast,  (including  the  two  arms,  San 
Pablo  and  San  Francisco  bay  proper,)  perhaps,  70  miles  in  length,  and 
in  the  widest  part  14  miles  broad,  with  a  coast  line  of  275  miles.  A 
strait,  about  2  miles  wide,  and  from  5  to  7  miles  long,  breaking  through 
a  range  of  low  mountains,  connects  it  with  the  ocean.  This  strait  has 
been  termed,  not  inappropriately,  the  Grolden  Gate,  as  it  is  the  passage 
through  which  the  multitude  from  every  region  of  the  world  are  con- 
stantly hastening,  in  order  to  gather  the  wealth  of  this  new  and  richer 
El  Dorado.  Within  the  barrier  of  hills  already  alluded  to,  the  bay 
divides  into  two  parts,  the  one  stretching  to  the  south  about  40  miles, 
and  the  other  to  the  north  for  about  30.  On  the  north-west  shore  of 
the  southern  arm  stands  the  city  of  San  Francisco.     The  northern  arm 


478  CALIFORNIA. 

(San  Pablo)  is  united  by  a  second  strait,  Carquinez,  with  Suisun  bay 
directly  oast  of  it,  which  is  15  or  20  miles  long.  The  Golden  Gate  is 
the  only  channel  of  communication  between  the  Pacific  and  the  interior 
of  California.  Pelican,  Humboldt,  Bodega,  Sir  Francis  Drake's,  31  on- 
tercy,  Do  los  Esteras,  Santa  Barbara,  San  Pedro,  and  San  Diego,  are  the 
other  bays,  all  opening  into  the  Pacific.  The  Sacramento  and  San 
Joaquin  are  the  principal  rivers  of  California,  and,  running  in  opposite 
directions,  the  former  from  the  north  and  the  latter  from  the  south,  they 
drain  almost  the  entire  valley  between  the  two  great  ranges.  Sierra 
Nevada  and  the  Coast  range,  and  unite  about  15  miles  above  Suisun 
bay,  into  which  they  discharge  their  mingled  waters.  Each  of  these 
rivers  has  a  course  of  from  250  to  300  miles.  All  their  tributaries  of 
importance  descend  the  Sierra  Nevada  slope.  The  principal  of  these, 
commencing  at  the  north,  are  Pitt,  the  Feather,  Yuba,  and  American  ; 
and  of  the  San  Joaquin,  the  Calaveras,  the  Stanislaus,  the  Tuolumne, 
and  Merced  rivers.  The  Moquelumne  meets  the  Sacramento  and  San 
Joaquin  near  their  junction.  The  Sacramento  has  been  ascended  by 
small  steamers  as  far  as  Marysville,  the  San  Joaquin  as  far  as  Fort 
Miller,  and  the  Merced  for  20  miles.  The  Klamath  river  from  Oregon 
runs  through  the  north-west  part  of  the  State,  and  the  Buenaventura 
drains  part  of  the  valley  between  the  Sierra  Morena  and  Coast  moun- 
tains ;  both  empty  into  the  Pacific.  The  principal  lakes  are  Tulare 
lake,  about  60  miles  long,  in  the  south,  which  has  an  outlet  into  the 
San  Joaquin  river,  and  Clear  lake,  in  Mendocino  county,  Owen  moun- 
tain and  5lono  lakes,  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  State,  are  all  small. 

Objects  op  Interest  to  Tourists. — Though  California  is  not  sur- 
passed by  any  State  in  the  Union  in  grand  and  sublime  scenery,  the 
greater  part  of  it  is  as  yet  too  imperfectly  explored  to  justify  our  speak- 
ing of  it  except  in  very  general  terms.  Not  to  repeat  what  has  already 
been  said  qf  the  magnificent  mountain  ranges,  with  their  summits  clad 
with  everlasting  snow,  we  may  notice  a  few  natural  curiosities  of  quite 
a  diiFerent  character.  Among  the  most  remarkable  of  these  are  the  hot 
sulphur  springs,  the  Geysers  of  America,  in  Napa  county,  about  70 
miles  north  of  the  city  of  this  name.  They  are  from  1  to  9  feet  in 
diameter,  and  constantly  in  boiling  state,  ejecting  water  to  bights  of  10 
or  15  feet.  Hundreds  of  fissures  in  the  sides  of  the  mountains  emit 
strong  currents  of  heated  gas,  with  a  noise  resembling  that  of  vapor 
escaping  from  ocean  steamers.  We  condense  the  following  from  Silli- 
man's  Journal  of  November,  1851,  by  Professor  Sheppard : — "  From  a 
high  peak  we  saw  on  the  west  the  Pacific,  on  the  south  Mount  Diablo 
and  San  Francisco  bay,  on  the  east  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  on  the  north 
opened  at  our  feet  an  immense  chasm,  from  which,  at  the  distance  of  from 
4  to  5  miles,  we  distinctly  saw  dense  columns  of  steam  rising.  Descend- 
ing, we  discovered  within  half  a  mile  square  from  100  to  200  openings, 
whence  issued  dense  columns  of  vapor  to  the  bight  of  from  150  to  200 
feet,  accompanied  by  a  roar  which  could  be  heard  for  a  mile  or  more. 
Many  acted  spasmodically,  throwing  up  jets  of  hot,  scalding  water  to  the 
hight  of  20  to  30  feet.  Beneath  your  footsteps  you  hear  the  lashing 
and  foaming  gyrations ;  and  on  cutting  through  the  surface,  are  disclosed 


CALIFORNIA.  479 

streams  of  angry,  boiling  water.  'The  Three  Buttes,'  says  Lieutenant 
Derby,  'have  been  erroneously  represented,  since  they  are  in  reality  a 
range  of  about  12  miles  in  width  by  6  in  breadth,  and  contain,  perhaps, 
20  peaks;  the  highest  of  which,  and  the  most  interesting,  is  that  on  the 
north,  which  is  a  very  steep  cone,  surmounted  by  a  turret-shaped  rock; 
56  feet  high,  and  has  an  elevation  of  2,483  feet;'  (Capron  says  4,000 
feet.)  This  commands  an  extensive  view  from  the  Coast  rnnge  to  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  and  for,  perhaps,  80  miles  up  and  down  the  Sacramento 
valley,  and  will  doubtless  one  day  be  one  of  the  fashionable  resorts  of  the 
San  Franciscans."  (For  Sjirings,  see  Minerals.)  Among  the  moun- 
tains not  named  in  the  general  survey,  are  Mount  Prospect,  5,000  feet 
high,  and  Salmon  Mountain,  covered  with  snow  nine  month  i.s  in  the 
year,  both  in  Klamath  county;  Mount  St.  Helen's,  3,500  fe  t,  in  Napa; 
Saddle  Peak,  7,200  feet;  Table  mountain,  8,000  feet;  and  Butte,  at  the 
head  of  South  fork,  9,000  feet  in  bight,  all  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  moun- 
tains; two  double  peaks,  conspicuous  landmarks,  in  Solano;  and 
Oregon  hill,  2,800  feet  high,  in  Yuba  county.  Near  Vallecita,  on  Chyote 
creek,  in  Calaveras  county,  is  a  striking  display  of  volcanic  action  in 
the  shape  of  what  are  called  the  natural  bridges ;  two  immense  arches, 
thrown  over  the  above-named  creek,  and  covered  with  imitations  of 
clusters  of  fruits  and  flowers,  doubtless  formed  when  the  mass  was  tirst 
upheaved  in  a  molten  state.  In  the  same  vicinity  is  "Chyote  Cave,"  a 
deep  semicircular  chasm,  entered  by  a  perpendicular  descent  of  100  feet, 
and  then  proceeding  by  a  gradual  slope  till  it  reaches  a  depth  of  nearly 
200  feet  below  the  surface,  where  you  come  to  a  chamber  called  "  The 
Cathedral,"  from  its  containing  two  stones,  resembling  bells,  which, 
when  struck,  produce  a  chiming  sound.  ProL-eeding  100  feet  further, 
always  on  the  descent,  a  lake  is  reached  of  great  depth,  and  apparently 
covering  many  acres;  but  the  exploration  has  not  yet  been  carried  be- 
yond this  point.  The  roof  of  the  cave  is  studded  with  stal.ictites, 
assuming  various  fantastic  forms. 

CliiMate,  Soil,  and  Productions. — The  climate  of  California  is 
much  milder,  even  at  considerable  elevations,  than  in  the  same  'latitude 
on  the  Atlantic  border,  and  the  winters  are  .^hort  and  seldom  severe.  At 
San  Francisco  the  mercury  seldom  rises  above  80°,  but  has  at  times 
risen  at  98°  in  September;  yet  the  temperature  often  varies  30°  in  24 
hours;  in  the  rainy  season  the  thermometer  rarely  sinks  below  49°.  On 
the  coast,  generally,  snow  is  a  rarity.  The  summers  of  San  Francisco, 
and  other  parts  near  the  sea,  are  more  disagreeable  than  the  winters, 
owing  to  the  prevalence  of  north-west  winds  from  the  ocean,  wliich 
bring  with  them  chilling  fogs.  In  the  hot  season  these  winds  set  in  at 
San  Francisco  about  9  or  10  o'clock,  and  are  poured  through  the  Golden 
,Gate  directly  upon  the  city,  producing  a  chilling  effect  contrasted  with 
the  heat  of  the  morning.  The  sheltered  valleys  along  the  coast  enjoy  a 
delicious  climate,  equally  removed  from  the  chilliness  of  the  exposed 
parts  of  the  coast,  and  the  heat  of  the  great  valley  between  the  Coast 
range  and  the  Sierra  Nevada.  In  any  country  ranging  through  10°  of 
latitude,  the  difference  of  temperature  would  be  considerable;  but  in 
California  this  difference  is  greatly  increased  by  the  peculiaiities  of  its 


480  CALIFORNIA. 

surface,  insomuch  that  no  general  statement  wouhl  be  at  all  correct. 
The  northern  portion  has  more  of  the  chilling  fogs  of  the  warm  season, 
and  more  and  longer  rains  in  the  wet  season,  than  the  southern  portion; 
and  in  the  great  valleys  of  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin,  the  heat  is 
much  greater  in  summer  than  near  the  coast,  the  mercury  not  unfre- 
quently  rising  to  112°  and  120°  at  Suttersville.  Owing,  says  Mr.  Tyson, 
to  the  extreme  dryness  of  the  air,  it  does  not  produce  that  prosti-ating 
effect  that  a  much  less  degree  of  heat  would  produce  in  the  Atlantic  and 
Mississippi  States.  The  nights  he  represents  as  never  so  hot  as  to  pre- 
vent sleep.  The  Sierra  Nevada  precipitates  whatever  moisture  has  been 
left  in  the  air  after  the  passage  of  the  Coast  range,  and  sends  it  into 
Utah  dry  and  warm.  The  terms  winter  and  summer,  as  understood  east 
of  the  Kocky  mountains,  will  not  apply  here,  and  we  must  resort  to  the 
tropical  names  of  wet  and  dry  seasons.  The  rains  begin  in  the  north, 
says  Tyson,  early  in  the  autumn,  and  extend  slowly  southward,  reaching 
San  Francisco  about  a  week  before  the  1st  of  December,  and  San  Diego 
a  month  later,  where  the  rainy  season  is  over  by  February,  and  retrograd- 
ing, continues  later  into  the  year  as  we  proceed  north,  where  the  rain 
not  only  lasts  longer,  but  falls  in  greater  quantity  in  a  given  time. 
During  the  dry  season  scarcely  a  cloud  is  to  be  seen  in  the  great  valley 
for  a  month  at  a  time. 

According  to  observations  made  during  75  days  by  the  exploring  ex- 
expedition  at  San  Francisco,  between  August  18  and  October  31, 
north-west  winds  prevailed  13  days,  south-west  44,  west  4,  south-east  5, 
and  calm  5  days.  Mean  temperature,  from  May  27  to  June  6,  61°, 
maximum  86°,  minimum  48°;  while  at  New  Helvetia,  during  the  same 
period,  the  thermometer  rose  to  114°.  According  to  observations  made 
by  Fremont,  in  San  Joaquin  valley,  between  the  middle  of  December 
and  the  middle  of  June,  the  mean  was  29°  at  sunrise,  and  52°  at  sun- 
set; and  from  the  10  to  the  22  of  March,  88°  and  26°,  at  sunrise  and 
sunset  respectively;  at  Deer  creek,  40°  north  latitude,  between  March 
30  and  April  4,  mean  at  2  P.  M.  59°;  at  the  Three  Buttes,  in  39° 
north  latitude,  at  an  elevation  of  800  feet,  90°  at  2  p.  M.  In  latitude 
35°  30',  mean  between  December  27  and  January  17,  60°  at  noon; 
and  near  Monterey  early  in  March,  62°  at  2  P.  M.,  at  a  hight  of  2,200. 
feet. 

According  to  Captain  "Wilkes,  not  more  than  12,000  square  miles  of 
California  are  susceptible  of  cultivation.  A  recent  writer  computes  the 
arable  land  at  42,420  square  miles.  This  opinion  will  probably  have  to 
be  very  much  modified  with  the  progress  of  knowledge,  in  developing 
the  agricultural  capabilities  of  the  country,  which  now  lie  much  neglect 
ed  in  the  general  rush  to  "the  diggings."  Enough  has  been  done  t( 
show  marvellous  fertility  in  the  soil,  both  as  to  variety,  quantity,  and  size 
of  the  products.  In  the  south,  and  in  some  of  the  low  interior  valleys 
as  far  north  as  Napa,  figs,  dates,  sugar-cane,  and  even  bananas  flourish ; 
and  most  tropical  plants  may  be  grown  in  this  region  where  irrigation 
can  be  practiced,  which,  in  many  parts,  is  absolutely  necessary  to  suc- 
cessful agricultural  operations.  The  sheltered  valley  between  the  Sierra 
Morena  and  Coast  range,  south  of  the  bay  of  San  Francisco,  is  peculiarly 


CALIFORNIA.  481 

favorable  to  plants  and  fruits  requiring  a  mild  climate.      The  southern 

country  is  highly  favorable  to  the  grape,  and  according  to  the  State 

census,  Los  Angeles  county  alone  produced  2,250,000  pounds.  Peaches, 

'      pears,  apples,  cherries,  quinces,  and  apricots    flourish.      Santa    Barbara 

county  reports  1,370  barrels  of  olives.     Wheat  and  rye  yield  largely  in 

f     many  parts  north  of  Point  Conception — these  crops  maturing  so  early  as 

to  be  little  injured  by  the  dry  season.      Oats  grow  wild  in  great  quanti 

ties  in  the  Sacramento  valley,  and  westward  of  it.     This  cures  in   the 

i     dry  season  and  forms  excellent  fodder,  as  there  is  no  moisture  to  cause 

[    decomposition.     Hemp,  rice,  tobacco,  cotton,  and  coffee,   all    can,  it  ia 

I    believed,  be  cultivated  successfully;  the  first  three  having  been  tried. 

;    According  to  the  State  census  of  1852,  there  were  110,748  acres  of  land 

under  cultivation,  the  greater  portion  of  which  is  in  the  middle  and  west 

'    side  of  the  State,  between   36°  and  40°  north  latitude.      The  largest 

\   yield   was   of  barley,    2,973,734   bushels;  potatoes,  1,393,170;  wheat, 

|:  291,763;    oats,    100,497;    Indian    corn,    62,582;  beef    cattle,   number 

il  315,392;  cows,  104,339  ;  working  oxen,  29,065  ;  horses,  64,773  ;  mules, 

j:  16,578;  sheep,  (in  20  counties,)  35,867;  hogs,  88,071,  and  poultry,  78,753. 

I       Forest  Trees. — The  variety  of  timber  in  California  is  not  great,  but 

!  it  is  large  in  size,  and  abundant  in  quantity.     The  Lambertine  pine,  or 

;  fir,  on  the  mountains,  of  gigantic  size,  the  red-wood  (the  "palo  Colorado" 

\  of  the  Mexicans,  a  tree  of  huge  dimensions,  a  species  of  cypress ;  Col. 

1  Fremont  mentions  one  21  feet  in  diameter),  pine,  spruce,  cedar,  white  and 

1  live  oak,  sycamore,  maple,  ash,  beech  and  laurel  are  found  in  all  sections 

I  of   the  State,  but  most  abundantly  in  the  north  and  central  portions, 

i  especially  on  the  western  slope  of  the  Nevada  mountains.     A  specipaen 

>  of  arbor  vitse  rece,ntly  felled,  measured  about  320  feet  long,  and  92  in 

I  girth,  and  yet  another  410  feet  in  length,  and  110  in  circumference.     A 

species  of  cotton-wood  is  found. 

1  Animals. — Among  the  animals  are  the  moose,  elk,  antelope,  black- 
Itailed  and  jumping  deer,  mountain  sheep,  grizzly,  black,  and  barren 
,  Iground  bear,  the  cougar,  common,  grey,  dusky,  black,  and  prairie  wolf, 
,  jthe  northern  lynx,  red  lynx,  tiger-cat,  cuyote  (an  animal  between  a  fox 
|ind  a  wolf,  which  preys  upon  sheep  and  pigs),  a  black  wildcat,  red,  and 
','  ijommon  fox,  wolverine  (a  sullen,  savage  animal,  which  partakes  of  the 
'  iiQature  of  the  bear,  fox,  and  weasel),  badger,  raccoon,  marmot,  squirrel; 
.  I  species  of  rat,  living  in  the  mountains,  and  building  itself  a  brush  hut 
°  4  or  5  feet  in  hight,  about  the  size  of  a  musk-rat,  web-footed,  with  a  fine 
'     isolored  fur;  pouched  rat,  mice,  hares,  martins,  and  rabbits  are  the  prin- 

isipal  quadrupeds.  The  sea  and  land  otter,  common  hair  seal,  beaver,  and 
ausk-rat  are  the  principal  fur-bearing  animals.  Many  wild  horses  roam 
iver  the  native  pastures.  Large  herds  of  cattle,  but  of  an  inferior  breed, 
7ere  formerly  raised  principally  for  their  hides,  horns  and  tallow.  The 
""  |lk,  the  grizzly  and  other  bears,  and  deer  arc  abundant.  Birds,  except 
'}^5  quatic  fowls,  are  not  abundant  in  California.  The  California  and  black 
'. '  julturcs  (the  former  4  feet  in  hight,  and  10  from  tip  to  tip  of  its  wings, 
'^^  U  a  solitary  bird,  building  its  nest  on  the  top  of  the  mountain),  the  tur- 
*  ey-buzzard,  golden  and  bald  eagle,  fish-hawk,  black,  and  pigeon-hawk, 
;■'*'!*  erfalcon,  gosbawk,  great  horned  and  great  snow-owl,  black  raven,  shrike, 
M  31 


482  CALIFORNIA. 

robin,  brown  thrush,  lark,  redwing,  snow-buntinp:,  crossbill,  magpie,  three 
species  of  jay,  woodpecker,  humming-bird,  swallow,  night-hawk,  king- 
fisher, grouse  of  various  kinds,  geese,  ducks,  widgeons,  teal,  crane,  cur- 
lew, snipe,  sandpiper,  plover,  tatlcr,  godwit,  gull,  phalarope,  penguins, 
swan  (the  largest  bird  of  California,  and  a  bird  of  passage),  white  pel- 
ican, and  albatross,  arc  the  principal  birds.  Among  the  fishes  are  the 
seal,  sturgeon,  bass,  mackerel,  crawfish,  blackfish,  sardines  (in  sufficient 
numbers  to  become  an  article  of  export),  codfish,  porgy,  bonito,  pilchard, 
skate;  and,  out  at  sea,  the  whale  and  porpoise,  clams,  oysters,  lobsters, 
crabs,  hallibut  of  a  large  size,  sharks,  a  large  fish  of  a  dingy  red  color 
off  the  soundings,  salmon  in  great  abundance  (large  in  size  and  excellent 
in  quality),  salmon-trout,  trout,  smelts,  and  a  large  fresh-water  fish  from 
1^  to  2|-  feet  long.  Among  reptiles  are  the  striped,  black,  spotted,  and 
rattle  snakes;  the  adder,  and  several  species  of  water-snake. 

Manufactures. — California  has  few  manufactures,  and  this  state  of 
things  is  likely  to  continue  so  long  as  there  is  so  great  a  demand  for 
labor  in  other  and  more  profitable  kinds  of  business,  About  8800,000 
were  invested  in  sawing  lumber  in  1850. 

Internal  Improvements. — Several  railroads  have  been  projected,  in 
California,  the  principal  of  which  are — that  from  San  Francisco  to  San 
Jose,  one  from  Benecia  to  Marysville,  and  one  from  Stockton  toward 
Sonora.  Plank-roads,  also,  have  engaged  the  public  attention.  Canal- 
ing,  for  the  purpose  of  conducting  water  to  the  mines,  is  a  species  of 
improvement  peculiar  to  this  State.  About  $3,851,623  in  1852  were  in- 
vested in  sluices,  canals,  etc.  A  marine  telegraph  communicates  between 
San  Francisco,  and  Point  Boneta,  at  the  entrance  of  the  Golden  Gate. 

Commerce. — The  commercial  city  of  San  Francisco  has  sprung  up  as 
if  by  magic,  and  its  harbor  is  thronged  with  shipping  from  Europe,  Asia, 
Australia,  and  the  Atlantic  coast  of  the  United  States.  At  the  moment 
we  write,  in  all  our  great  Atlantic  ports,  large  numbers  of  the  first-class 
ships  are  loading  with  valuable  cargoes  for  California.  Several  lines, 
employing  above  40  immense  ocean  steamers,  of  from  900  to  3,000  tons 
burden,  crowded  with  passengers,  to  a  degree  unparalleled  in  the  history 
of  navigation,  weekly  arrive  at  and  depart  from  San  Francisco  at  the  one 
terminus,  and  New  York  and  New  Orleans  at  the  other.  With  the 
exception  of  the  export  of  gold,  California's  commerce  is  almost  wholly 
an  importing  one,  the  frames  and  materials  of  houses  themselves  being 
imported.  The  commerce  of  California  threatens  to  revolutionize  the 
trade  of  the  east,  and  San  Francisco  seems  likely  to  become  the  Alexan- 
dria of  modern  times,  the  halting-place  of  the  transit  trade  of  Asia,  in 
its  new  western  route  to  Europe,  to  open  commerce  (and  with  it  civili- 
zation) to  the  isles  of  the  Pacific,  and  to  infuse  even  into  the  Chinese 
the  spirit  of  progress.  The  foreign  imports  of  California  for  the  fiscal 
year  1852,  were  $4,648,587,  and  the  exports  consisted  of  about 
§50,000,000  gold  dust.  The  imports  of  San  Francisco  for  1853,  amounted 
to  §35,000,000,  and  the  exports  of  gold  to  §62,300,389,  of  which 
§56,675,736  was  consigned  to  New  York ;  but  this  is  below  the  real 
amount,  as  much  is  never  entered  at  the  custom-house.  In  "the  same 
year,  §2,581,975  duties  were  collected.     The  imports  of  1852  of  course 


CALIFORNIA.  483 

do  not  include  the  immense  trade  with  the  Atlantic  shores  of  the  repub- 
lic. There  entered  into  California  in  1852,  718  vessels,  tonnage  261,352, 
and  cleared  906,  tonnage  360,872.  About  one-third  of  the  commerce 
was  in  foreign  bottoms.  Total  tonnage  owned  in  the  state,  99,041,83. 
See  San  Francisco. 

Education. — Congress  appropriated  half  a  million  acres  of  land  in 
California  for  the  support  of  common  schools;  of  this,  150,000  acres 
have  been  sold,  forming  a  school  fund  of  $300,000.  Besides  this,  two 
sections  of  land  in  each  township  are  set  apart  for  the  same  purpose, 
and  72  sections  for  a  State  university.  The  money  available  for  present 
use,  arising  from  diiferent  sources,  amounted  to  nearly  $50,000  in  1853. 
The  donations  of  public  lands  for  school  and  university  purposes, 
amounted  to  6,765,40-1  acres  in  June,  1853.  The  superintendent  of 
public  schools,  the  same  year,  reported  to  the  legislature,  17,821  white 
children  in  the  State,  20  public  schools  attended  by  3,314  pupils;  number 
of  teachers  employed,  15,  of  whom  6  were  females;  highest  salary,  $150 
per  month;  lowest,  $75;  total  expended  on  teachers' salaries,  $21,355,42, 
8  or  10  academies  and  high  schools  have  been  founded,  supported  by 
private  means,  and  the  Catholic  bishop  of  Monterey  reports  8  schools 
under  his  direction. 

Religion. — In  1850,  California  had  28  churches,  of  which  1  belonged 
to  the  Baptists,  1  to  the  Episcopalians,  5  to  the  Methodists,  3  to  the 
Presbyterians,  and  18  to  the  Roman  Catholics. 

Public  Institutions. — A  State  Lunatic  Asylum  is  now  in  course  of 
erection  at  Stockton,  which  will  be  an  ornament  to  the  State.  In  1852, 
there  were,  in  temporary  buildings,  30  patients.  The  State  Marine 
Hospital,  at  San  Francisco,  in  1852,  admitted  2,283  patients,  of  whom 
1,408  were  foreigners.  The  United  States  Marine  Hospital,  now  being 
erected  in  the  same  city,  is  182  feet  by  86  feet,  4  stories  high,  and  capa- 
ble of  accommodatiug  800  patients.  A  penitentiary  is  now  in  course  of 
erection  at  St.  Quentin,  15  miles  north  of  San  Francisco,  at  which  place 
200  convicts  are  employed  in  constructing  the  building. 

Population. — No  member  of  the  American  confederacy — perhaps  we 
might  safely  say,  no  portion  of  the  earth — has  so  mixed  a  poj)ulation  as 
California,  adventurers  being  found  from  almost  every  quarter  of  the 
globe;  even  the  exclusive  empire  of  China  has  here  its  representatives 
by  tens  of  thousands,  whose  patient  industry  makes  them  useful  inhab- 
itants. The  Indians  also  form  a  large  portion  of  the  population. 
According  to  a  State  census  taken  toward  the  close  of  1852,  the  popula- 
tion of  California  was  264,435  inhabitants  (one  county,  El  Dorado,  being 
estimated),  of  whom  151,115  were  "white  males,  29,741  females;  1,637 
male  negroes,  253  females;  424  male  mulattoes,  98  females;  19,675 
male  domesticated  Indians,  12,864  flimales;  93,344  were  citizens  of  the 
United  States  over  21  years  of  age;  50,631  male  foreigners,  and  4,360 
females.  Of  the  foreigners,  39,444  were  over  21  years  of  age.  Of  the 
population,  it  is  estimated  that  140,000  are  miners. 

Counties. — Calif )rnia  is  divided  into  36  counties,  viz:  Alameda, 
Butte,  Calaveras,  Colusi,  Contra  Costa,  El  Dorado,  Humboldt.  Klamath, 
Los  Angeles,  Marin,  Mariposa,  Mendocino,  Monterey,  Napa,  Nevada, 


484  CALIFORNIA. 

Plaoor,  Sacramento,  San  Bernaidino,  San  Diego,  San  Joaquin,  San 
Francisco,  San  Louis  Obispo,  Santa  Clara,  Santa  Cruz,  Santa  Barbara, 
Shasta,  Siera,  Siskiyou,  Solano,  Snloma,  Sutter,  Trinity,  Tuoluuiue,  Tu- 
lare, Yolo,  and  Yuba.     Capital,  Sacramento. 

Cities  and  Towns. — San  Francisco  bad,  in  1852,  a  population  of 
34,876;*  it  is  now  (1S5G)  estimated  at  not  less  tban  60,000;  Sacramento 
city  has  about  10,000;  Nevada,  7,000  ;  Mary.-ville,  4,500;  Placerville,  Sono- 
ra,  and  San  Jose,  each  4,000;  Stockton,  Monterey,  Los  Angeles,  San  Diego, 
Santa  Barbara,  Shasta,  Culloma,  and  Downieville,  from  1,000  to  3,000. 

Government,  Finances,  etc. — The  governor  of  California  is  elected 
for  two  years  by  popular  vote,  and  receives  310,000  salary.  The  senate 
consists  of  33  members,  elected  for  two  years,  and  the  house  of  repre- 
sentatives of  80,  elected  annually,  Tl;ie  State  legislature  ai;sembles 
annually  on  the  first  Monday  in  June.  The  members  receive  ^16  per 
diem  during  one  session.  California,  by  the  recent  State  census,  will  be 
entitled  to  3  members  in  the  national  House  of  Representatives  (if  the 
State  census  should  be  taken  as  the  guide  to  apportionment,  otherwise 
but  2),  and  to  5  electoral  votes  for  President  of  the  United  States. 

The  judiciary  consists:  1.  Of  a  supreme  court,  composed  of  1  chief 
and  2  associate  judges,  elected  by  the  people  for  sis  years,  and  receiving 
$8,000  each,  annually.  2.  Of  district  courts,  the  judges  of  which  are 
also  elected  by  popular  vote,  for  six  years.  3.  A  county  judge  is  elected 
in  each  county  for  four  years,  to  act  as  judge  of  probate,  and  to  hold 
courts  for  the  transaction  of  criminal  business,  in  conjunction  with  two 
justices  of  the  peace;  and  4.  Of  the  superior  court  of  San  Francisco. 
The  district  judges  receive  87,500  per  annum. 

The  productions  and  capital  employed  in  various  branches  of  business 
(Calaveras  and  El  Dorado  counties  estimated),  including  live  stock,  ag- 
ricultural products,  mines,  etc.,  etc.,  made  in  1852,  a  total  of  $108,522,568. 
The  State  debt  of  California  amounted,  in  October  31,  1853,  to 
$3,257,492.  The  income  of  the  State  for  the  year  ending  June  30, 
1853,  amounted  to  only  8454,985,84,  while  the  expenditures  were 
§1,367,593,35;  but  the  receipts  of  the  unexpired  fiscal  year,  amounted, 
in  January,  1854,  to  8780,000  net  revenue. 

History. — According  to  some  accounts,  California  was  first  visited  by 
Cobriilo,  who  landed  at  San  Diego  in  1542,  and  afterward  by  Sir  Francis 
Drake,  in  1578.  The  first  mission  was  founded  by  some  Spaniards,  in 
1769.  After  the  Mexican  revolution,  California  formed  a  province  of 
that  republic  until  1836,  when  the  inhabitants  rebelled,  drove  out  the 
Mexicans,  and  formed  an  independent  congress.  After  having  been  the 
scene  of  several  sanguinary  contest^  during  the  war  with  Mexico,  by  the 
treaty  of  peace  in  1848,  it  became  a  part  of  the  United  States,  and  in 
1850  was  admitted  into  the  American  confederacy,  as  a  sovereign  State; 
since  which  time  its  almost  daily  history  has  been  blazoned  to  the  world, 
far  and  near,  in  the  newspapers  of  the  day.  During  its  occupancy  by 
the  Spaniards,  it  was  resorted  to  by  the  Americans,  principally  for  the 

•  It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  in  giving  population  in  California,  that  there  is  an 
immense  floating  population,  particularly  in  San  Francisco,  not  enumerated  in  the 
census. 


CALIFORNIA.  485 

hides  and   tallow  cured  at  the  Jesuit  missionary  stations,  and  by  the 
Russians  in  pursuit  of  the  seal. 

San  Francisco,  the  commerci-.il  metropolis  of  California,  and  the 
queen  city  of  the  "far  West,"  is  situated  on  the  west  shore  of  the  mag- 
nificent bay  from  which  it  derives  its  name.  Latitude  37°  47'  35"  north, 
longitude  122°  26'  15"  west.  It  stands  in  a  plain  about  half  a  mile 
wide,  gently  inclined  toward  the  bay,  with  numerous  hills  behind  it. 
The  soil  on  which  the  city  is  built  is  very  sandy;  and  in  the  vicinity, 
more  particularly  toward  the  north,  are  a  number  of  sand-hills.  It  is 
rcgulai'ly  laid  out,  the  streets  crossing  each  other  at  right  angh;s.  The 
houses  till  recently  were  mostly  frame;  but  since  the  destructive  fires 
that  have  occurred  several  times,  laying  the  greater  part  of  the  town  in 
ruins,  brick  and  iron  are  becoming  more  extensively  used.  It  now  con- 
tains many  well-built  fire-proof  stores  and  banking-houses.  The  better 
class  of  frame  houses  are  painted  white,  wiih  green  blinds,  presenting 
the  appearance  of  the  houses  in  New  England. 

The  city  was  originally  built  around  a  semicircular  bay,  having  Rincon 
point  on  the  south,  and  Clark's  point  on  the  north,  these  two  points  being 
about  a  mile  apart.  All  the  space  between  is  now  built  up,  the  ware- 
houses and  wharves  being  supportd  by  piles  driven  into  the  water. 
Clark's  point  is  the  termination  of-Telegraph  hill,  having  an  elevation  of 
1,000  feet  or  upward,  and  from  the  summit  of  which  a  very  extensive 
view  may  be  had  of  the  surrounding  country.  Directly  in  front  of  the 
city,  but  distant  5  or  6  miles,  is  Goat  island,  which  is  nearly  a  mile  in 
length.  It  is  a  barren,  rocky  place,  except  on  the  east  side,  where  there 
is  some  cultivation  among  the  valleys.  The  wholesale  business  part  of 
San  Francisco,  is  towaid  the  city  front.  Davis  street  is  next  to  the  bay; 
then  advancing  west,  one  meets  Front,  Battery,  Sansom,  Montgomery, 
Kearney,  Dupont,  Stockton,  and  Powell  streets;  Vallejo,  Broadway, 
Pacific,  Jackson,  Washington,  Clay,  Commercial  or  Long  Wharf,  Sacra- 
menio,  California,  Pine,  Bush,  and  Market  streets,  running  east  and 
west,  are  included  within  the  business  section  of  the  city.  Montgomery 
street  is  a  wide,  hand-ome  thoroughfare.  On  it  are  situated  the  estab- 
lishments of  the  bankers  and  brokers,  and  nearly  all  the  newspaper 
offices  in  the  city.  It  is  also  the  fashionable  promenade.  On  Stockton 
and  Dup'int  streets,  toward  the  sou'h  part  of  the  city,  are  many  fine  resi- 
dences built  of  brick;  west  of  Stockton,  and  on  the  surrounding  hills,  are 
many  handsome  houses  of  wood,  but  being  separated  from  the  rest  of  the 
city,  they  are  comparatively  secure  in  case  of  fire.  Most  families  have 
their  residences  in  tlie  outskirts,  or  in  the  rear  of  the  town.  The  prin 
cipal  streets  and  sidewalks  are  pave4  with  plank  and  heavy  timber.  In 
the  center  of  the  city  is  a  public  square  or  plaza.  A  railroad  has 
recently  been  projected  from  this  city  to  San  Jose. 

San  Francisco  has  a  custom-house,  a  branch  mint,  a  fine  exchange,  a 
marine  hnspital,  a  splendid  musical  fund  hall,  and  6  theaters.  The  new 
custini -house  is  a  very  extensive  and  substantial  buildingv  It  is  built 
on  pil.  s,  and  is  estimated  to  have  cost,  including  the  site,  about  $800,000. 
The  mint  was  completed  in  March,  1853,  and  cost  about  $300,000.  The 
entire   cost  of  the  marine  hospital  was   about    $400,000.     Among   the 


486 


CALIFORNIA. 


theaters,  the  Metropolitan,  erected  daring  1854,  is  tlie  most  magnificent. 
It  will  comfortably  seat  2,000,  and  accommodate  in  all  about  2,500  per- 
sons. There  are  some  20  churches  in  tlie  city,  9  or  10  banking-houses, 
and  13  daily  newspapers,  besides  other  publications. 

San  Francisco  is  supplied  with  water  from  Mountain  lake,  situated 
about  o^  miles  west  of  the  city.  The  water  is  introduced  into  the  town 
on  its  own  level,  at  an  elevation  of  about  130  feet  above  the  sea.  The 
cost  of  the  entire  work  is  estimated  at  $800,000.  Gas  is  employed  for 
lighting  the  streets.  The  gas-works  have  recently  been  completed,  and 
are  capable  of  producing  50,000  cubic  feet  every  2-4  hours. 

San  Francisco  has  regular  communication  by  steamers  with  Panama 
and  San  Juan  del  Sul,  while  several  lines  of  steamboats  are  constantly 
running  between  this  city  and  Sacramento  and  Marysville;  there  is  also 
a  line  plying  between  it  and  San  Jose,  Santa  Clara,  and  Alviso. 

The  following  table  shows  the  arrival,  tonnage,  and  average  passage 
of  vessels  at  San  Francisco  from  the  various  ports  specified,  for  8  months 
ending  September  1,  1853: 


Ports. 


Vessels. 

Tonnage. 

Average 
Passage. 

87 

24,150 

62i.<  days. 

44 

19,421 

68  "     " 

3 

904 

76 

6 

2,473 

79;^  " 

12 

4,207 

209 

28 

13,383 

16 

7,253 

208i<(     " 

4 

1.255 

191 

5 

2,262 

22423-    " 

14 

4,661 

169        " 

9 

3,979 

162)^     " 

2 

668 

207>.<     " 

9 

2,123 

172i.<     " 

G 

3,597 

1941^     " 

2 

677 

211 

Ports  in  Chili 

"       China 

Manila 

Other  Eastern  ports 

London 

Liverpool  

Carditf 

Glasgow 

Other  ports  in  Great  Britain 

Bordeaux 

Havre 

Marseilles 

Hamburgh 

Ports  in  Holland 

Bremen  and  Assens 


The  number  of  American  vessels  entered  during  the  period  above 
specified,  298,  (21  steamers;)  burden,  209,330  tons;  American  vessels 
from  foreign  ports,  131,  (46  steamers;)  burden,  79,406  tons. 


Vessels  and  tonnaye  cleared  at  San  Francisco  in  1853  and  1854. 

Ports. 

1833, 

1854. 

Fo. 

Tons. 

No. 

Tons. 

For  China 

95 

269 

25 

1,364 

58,207 
169,022 

30,580 
382,263 

640,072 

114 

119 

14 

916 

1,163 

91,684 

79,843 

8,630 

311,188 

491,345 

"    Callao 

"    United  States  Atlantic  ports 

Total 

1,653 

CALIFORNIA. 


487 


Shipping  entered  at  San  Francisco  for  six  years  ending  1851. 


Tears. 

From  American 
Ports. 

From  Foreign 
Ports, 

Total. 

No. 

Tons. 

No. 

Tons. 

No.              Tons. 

1849 

1850 

1851 

1852 

1853 

1854 

254 
695 
241 
161 
349 
266 

1,966 

75,316 
204,749 
115,725 
123,611 
260,110 
216,785 

396 

826 
736 
582 
513 
361 

85,-578 
195,427 
193,449 
172,341 
153,765 
192,245 

650 
1,521 

977 
743 
862 
627 

160,894 
400,176 
309,174 
294,952 
413,875 
409,030 

Total.. 

995,296 

3,414 

992,805 

5,380 

1,988,101 

In  the  subjoined  table  are  shown  the  countries  whence  the  vessels  that 
arrived  at  San  Francisco  in  1853  and  1854  sailed,  and  the  number  of 
vessels  from  each : 


Arrivals  from 


1853. 


1854. 


Domestie  Atlantic  ports 

Northern  antl  Home  coast  ports. 

Ports  in  France 

British   ports 

Germun  ports 

East  India  ports 

Ports  in  Chili 

Sandwich  and  Society  Islands. . 

South  American  ports 

Australian  ports 

Mexican  pons 


375 

172 

1,0,32 

1,460 

31 

11 

93 

41 

20 

14 

73 

63 

130 

27 

71 

55 

15 

10 

7 

IG 

55 

24 

Total 1 ,902 


1,893 


The  exports  to  Australia  and  ports  in  the  Pacific,  in  1854,  comprise 
31,072  barrels  and  sacks  of  flour;  4,717  sacks  of  wheat;  9,041  sacks  of 
barley;  and  25,543  sacks  of  potatoes.  Value  of  quicksilver  exported 
during  the  year,  S755,000.  The  amount  of  gold  exported  from  San 
Francisco  in  1853,  as  manifested  by  steamers  bi-monthly,  was  $56,560, 529, 
and  in  1854,  $51282,595  (the  amount  for  December,  1854,  is  partly  an 
estimate);  the  deficit  for  the  last-named  year  being  $5,277,934.  If, 
however,  we  add  to  the  export  of  1854,  the  343,868J  ounces  of  gold 
valued  at  $6,433,397,  deposited  at  the  mint  of  San  Francisco  from  April 
1,  1854,  the  time  the  establishment  went  into  operation,  to  January  1, 
1855,  we  shall  have  $57,719,192  as  the  produce  of  1854,  an  increase  of 
$1,155,663  over  that  of  1853.  The  total  produce  of  the  California  gold 
mines  since  their  discovery,  is  estimated  as  follows : 

Previous  to  1851,  assumed  from   statistics  of    the  Philadelphia 

Mint $G3,915,.376 

Manifested  by  steamers  in  1851 ;}4  492,624 

1852 45^559, 177 

1853 56,560,469 

Partly  an  estimate 1854 57,715,992 

Probable  amount  in  the  hands  of  passengers  for  4  years 40,000,000 

Total  amount $298,243,538 


488 


CALIFORNIA. 


Tbo  duties  collected  at  the  custom-house  of  San  Francisco  in  1853, 
amounted  to  $2,581,975.  The  shipping  of  the  port,  June  30,  1854,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom-house  returns,  amounted  to  an  aggregate  of  46,268 
tons  registered,  and  47,257  tons  enrolled  and  licensed;  total,  93,520 
tons.  Of  the  enrolled  and  licensed  tonnage,  44,841  tons  were  employed 
in  the  coast  trade. 

The  assessed  value  of  real  and  personal  property  in  San  Francisco, 
September  1,  1853,  amounted  to  $28,802,000,  being  an  increase  of  up- 
ward of  810,000,000  over  the  previous  year.  Of  this  sum,  86,158,350 
consisted  in  improvements,  and  $4,032,009  in  personal  property,  leaving 
$17,389,856  as  the  value  of  real  estate. 

Population. — The  inhabitants  of  San  Francisco  have  been  variously 
estimated  from  60,000  to  70,000;  but  there  is  so  large  a  mass  of  floating 
population,  that  it  would  be  impossible,  even  by  taking  a  census,  to  state 
the  number  with  any  exactness.  The  following  statement  will  give  some 
idea  of  the  immense  influx  of  strangers,  as  well  as  of  the  instability  of 
the  population:  The  total  number  of  passengers  by  sea  that  arrived  at 
San  Francisco,  from  January  1,  to  August  27,  1853,  was  20,722,  of 
whom  21,886  were  males,  4,138  females,  and  698  children.  The  total 
number  that  left  within  the  same  time  was  18,083,  nearly  all  males. 
The  addition  to  the  population  from  abroad,  amounted,  therefore,  during 
the  first  eight  months  of  the  same  year,  to  only  8,639.  From  July  27 
to  August  27,  the  total  arrivals  were  1,435;  the  departures,  1,932 — 
showing  a  falling  off  in  the  last  month  of  497.  The  following  table 
shows  from  wliat  points  the  emigrants  came  : 

Passengers  arriving  hy  sea,  from  January  1  to  August  27,  1853. 


France 1,824 

Sandwich  Islands 208 

Australia 196 

Holland 6 

Vancouver's  Island 3 

Sitka 4 

Genoa 9 

Society  Islands 10 

Total 26,717 


From  Panama 12,200 

San  Juan 6,295 

Realejjo 25 

United  States  ports 960 

Mexican  ports 415 

Chilian  ports 633 

Peruvian  ports 5 

Chinese  ports 3,628 

Philippine  Islands 7 

England 153 

Hause  Towns 133 

The  number  of  departures  by  sea  during  the  above  period,  was  18,034 
The  total  number  of  arrivals  by  sea  in  1854,  was  47,811;  departures, 
21,243,  The  number  of  Chinese  that  arrived,  was  15,062;  departures 
2175. 

History — The  first  settlement  at  San  Francisco  was  made  by  the 
Spaniards  about  the  year  1778.  The  place  was  then  called  Yerba  Buena, 
or  "good  herb,"  because  an  herb  of  this  name,  supposed  to  possess  great 
medicinal  virtues,  was  found  growing  abundantly  on  the  neighboring 
hills.  The  first  houses  were  built  of  adobes,  or  sun-dried  bricks.  In 
1839  it  was  laid  out  as  a  town,  the  few  houses  having  previously  been 
scattered  without  regularity.  It  contained  in  1845  about  150  inhabi- 
tants.    About  this  time  it  began  to  attract  the  attention  of  some  adven- 


CALIFORNIA.  489 

turous  Americans,  and  the  population  increased  in  two  years  to  nearly 
500.  It  retained  the  name  of  ^erba  Bucna  uniil  it  was  occupied  by  the 
Americans.  The  first  disovery  of  gold  was  made  at  Sutter's  settlement, 
then  callud  New  Helvetia,  in  December,  1847.  Early  in  IS-tS  the  news 
spread  to  the  four  quart.rs  of  the  gbibe,  and  immi  diately  adventurers 
from  every  land  came  tbrouginf^  to  th  s  new  El  Doiado.  The  magnifi- 
cent harbor  of  San  Francisco  made  this  port  the  great  rendezvous  for  the 
arriving  vessels,  and  from  this  period  dates  the  extraordinary  increase 
and  prosperity  of  the  Califuiniau  metropolis.  In  the  first  two  mouths 
of  the  golden  age,  the  quantity  of  precious  dust  brought  to  San  Frdnciseo 
was  estimated  at  ^250,000,  and  in  the  next  two  months  at  ^600, 000.  In 
February,  1849,  the  population  of  the  town  was  about  2,000;  in  August 
it  was  estimated  at  5,000.  From  April  12,  1849,  to  January  29,  IboO, 
there  arrived  at  this  port  by  sea  39,888  emigrants,  of  whom  1,421  were 
females.  In  the  year  ending  April  15,  1850,  there  arrived  62,000  pas- 
sengers. In  the  first  part  of  1850,  San  Francisco  became  a  city.  The 
population  then  was  from  15,000  to  20,000  According  to  the  census  of 
1852,  it  was  34,870;  in  1855,  from  60,000  to  65,000. 

Sacramento  city. — The  present  capital  of  California,  is  situated  on 
the  left  bank  of  the  Sacramento  river,  a  little  below  the  mouth  of  the 
American  river,  in  the  midst  of  a  level  and  extremely  fertile  country, 
140  miles  by  water  north-east  of  San  Francisco.  It  is  regularly  laid 
out,  the  street  nearest  the  river  being  called  Front  street,  the  next 
Second,  and  so  on;  these  are  crossed  by  others  at  right  angles,  dis- 
tinguished by  the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  J  and  K  streets  are  the  princi- 
pal business  streets  of  the  city.  Till  within  a  year  or  two  nearly  all  the 
houses  were  of  wood;  but  recently  a  more  substantial  mode  of  building 
is  coming  into  use.  Since  the  inundations  of  1849  and  1850,  a  good 
strong  levee  has  been  constructed  around  the  town.  In  Sacramento 
and  its  vicinity  are  perhaps  the  finest  gardens  in  California.  As  a 
center  of  commerce,  Sacramento  city  possesses  great  advantages.  It  is 
accessible  for  steamers  and  sailing  vessels  of  a  large  size,  at  ail  seasons 
of  the  year;  while  not  only  the  Sacramento  river  itself,  but  its  impor- 
tant afiluent,  the  Feather  river,  is  navigable  for  small  steamboats  far 
above,  into  the  interior  of  the  country.  These  advantages  have  ren- 
dered this  town  the  principal  entrepot  for  supplying  with  provisions  the 
great  mining  region  of  the  north.  The  amount  of  merchandise  daily 
landed  on  the  wharves  of  Sacramento  city  in  September,  1854,  was 
estimated  at  530  tons,  of  which  150  tons  were  shipped  by  the  up- 
country  steamers.  The  regular  weekly  sales  of  produce  and  merchan- 
dise were  stated  to  be  ^1,500,000,  and  the  monthly  receipts  of  gH)ld-dust 
$2,750,000.  The  number  of  stage  passengers  from  Sacramento  city  to 
the  mines  was  estimated  at  97,000;  of  wagon  passengers,  214,000; 
travelers  on  foot  and  horseback,  97,000;  drivers  and  packmen,  187,000; 
total,  595,000.  The  estimated  value  of  real  and  personal  property  in 
the  city  is  about  $10,000,000.  Five  or  six  newspapers  are  issued  here. 
A  railroad  is  in  course  of  construction  from  Sacramento  city,  up  the  south 
bank  of  the  Amcric;/u  river,  21  miles,  to  Negro  bar,  M'here  it  crosses  the 
river,  and  is  projected  in  the  direction  of  the  great  mining  district  of 


490  TERRITORY  OF  UTAH. 

the  State.  It  is  to  be  completed  to  Negro  bar  in  the  present  year, 
(1855.)  A  braueli  railroad  has  also  been  projeeted  for  15  or  20  miles 
south,  from  Negro  bur.  Population  estimated  at  20, QUO.  The  vote 
polled  in  Sacramento  in  1853,  was  5,53G.  Sacramento  city  was  founded 
in  the  spring  of  18-19,  the  central  part  of  the  town  being  about  1  mile 
below  Sutler's  fort,  near  the  left  bank  of  the  American  river,  belong- 
ing to  the  settlement  formerly  known  as  Nueva  llelvetia. 


TERRITORY    OF    UTAH. 


Utaii  was  originally  a  part  of  Upper  California,  ceded  to  the  United 
States  by  the  treaty  with  Mexico  in  1848,  and  was  erected  into  a  separate 
territory  in  1850.  It  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Oregon,  east  by  the 
Indian  Tei-itory  and  New  Mexico,  south  by  New  Mexico,  and  on  the 
west  by  California.  The  Rocky  mountains  separate  it  from  the  Indian 
Territory,  and  the  Sierra  Nevada  partly  from  California.  It  lies  be- 
tween 87°  and  42°  north  latitude,  and  between  105°  30'  and  120°  west 
longitude,  being  about  700  miles  in  extreme  length  from  east  to  west, 
and  347  miles  broad  from  norih  to  south,  and  including  an  area  of 
269,176  square  miles,  or  172,268,800  acres,  of  which  only  16,333  were 
improved  in  1850. 

Face  of  the  Country,  Geology,  etc. — This  extensive  region  is 
generally  an  elevated  and  liarren  table-land,  divided  into  unequal  por- 
tions by  the  Sierra  Madre  mountains,  but  having  the  larger  to  the  west 
of  them.  The  western  section,  known  as  the  Great  or  Fremont  Basin, 
is  hemmed  in  by  mountains  on  all  sides,  having  the  Blue  mountains  of 
Oregon  on  the  north,  the  Wahsatch  mountains  on  the  east,  the  Sierra 
Nevada  on  the  west,  and  transverse  spurs  of  the  Rocky  mountains  on 
the  south.  This  basin  has  an  extent  of  about  500  miles  from  east  to 
west,  by  350  miles  from  north  to  south,  and  a  general  elevation  of  from 
4,000  to  5,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  '-with  its  own  system  of 
lakes  and  rivers,  but  having  no  communication  with  the  ocean."  The 
eastern  portion  is  covered  with  a  white  incrustation  of  saline  and  alka- 
line matter,  and  the  western  with  a  mixture  of  salt,  sand,  and  clay,  in 
which  animals  sink  to  their  knees.  Several  detached  mountains  traverse 
tliis  basin,  the  principal  of  which  are  the  Humboldt  Rivcr  mountains, 
which  run  from  north  to  south,  near  the  centre  of  the  basin,  having  an 
elevation  of  from  2,000  to  5,000  feet  above  the  surrounding  country. 


TERRITORY  OF  UTAH.  491 

The  Wahsatch  mountains  rise  from  4,000  to  7,000  feet  above  the  neigh- 
boring valley,  and  some  reach  the  hight  of  perpetual  snow.  Some  of 
the  valleys,  in  the  southern  part  of  the  settled  country,  have  an  elevation 
of  about  G,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  A  great  valley,  more 
sterile  even  than  the  western  section,  occupies  the  region  between  the 
Wahsatch  and  the  Rocky  mountains. 

Of  the  geology  of  Utah  as  yet  very  little  is  known.  It  appears, 
however,  that  volcanic  rocks  are  found  in  various  parts.  Basalt  occurs 
on  the  slopes  of  the  mountains  in  many  places.  "The  Boiling  Springs" 
referred  to,  and  the  hot  springs  in  the  valley  of  Bear  river,  and  in  other 
sections,  indicate  the  proximity  of  volcanic  fires. 

Lakes  and  Rivers. — Great  Salt  lake  is  the  prominent  object  to  be 
considered  in  treating  of  the  waters  of  Utah.  This  extensive  and  pecu- 
liar sheet  of  water,  lying  north-east  from  the  center  of  the  territory,  is 
about  70  miles  long  and  80  miles  wide,  with  no  visible  outlet.  The  water 
is  so  highly  saline  that  no  living  thing  can  exist  in  it,  and  by  the  evapora- 
tion in  hot  weather,  leaves  on  its  shores  a  thick  incrustation  of  salt. 
According  to  Fremont's  analysis  of  some  of  the  salt  of  this  lake,  there 
were  in  100  parts,  97.80  of  chloride  of  sodium,  or  common  salt;  sul- 
phate of  lime,  1.12;  chloride  of  magnesium,  0.24;  and  sulphate  of  soda, 
0.23.  About  25  miles  south  of  this,  and  communicating  with  it  by  the 
river  Jordan,  is  Utah  lake,  a  body  of  fresh  water  about  85  miles  in 
length.  It  is  stored  with  trout  and  other  fish.  These  lakes  are  eleva- 
ted from  4,200  to  4,500  feet  above  the  sea.  Pyramid  lake,  on  the  slope 
of  the  Sierra  Navada  mountains  is,  according  to  Fremont,  about  700  feet 
higher  than  Grieat  Salt  lake,  and  received  its  name  from  a  pyramidal 
rock  which  rises  from  the  midst  of  its  waters.  In  the  interior  are 
several  small  lakes,  which  are  the  recipients  of  the  streams  of  the  in- 
terior basin,  and  are  often  mere  sinks  or  sloughs.  The  most  important 
of  these  known  are  Nicollet  lake,  about  the  middle  of  the  territory, 
and  Lake  Ashley,  perhaps  70  miles  south  of  it.  Near  the  eastern  base 
of  the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains  are  also  several  lakes,  which  receive  the 
waters  of  the  eastern  slope  of  these  mountains.  The  principal  of  these 
are  Mud,  Pyramid,  Carson's  and  Walker's  lakes.  About  50  miles  east 
of  Pyramid  lake  is  Humboldt's  hike,  formed  by  the  waters  of  Humboldt 
river.  These  lakes  have  evidently  no  outlet  but  by  evaporation,  which 
in  some  instances,  in  hot  weather,  reduces  them  to  mere  marshes  or 
sinks. 

As  before  stated,  the  rivers  of  the  Great  basin  have  no  apparent  con- 
nection with  the  ocean,  but  all  either  discharge  themselves  into  the 
interior  lakes,  or  are  absorbed  by  the  sands  of  the  deserts.  The  largest  ot 
these  streams  is  the  Humboldt  river,  having  its  sources  in  the  western 
declivities  of  the  mountains  of  that  name,  and  flows  south-west  about 
300  miles  into  the  lake  above  described.  One  of  the  overland  routes  to 
California  is  along  this  river,  whose  shores  afford  a  precarious  pastunige 
for  the  animals  of  the  caravans.  The  Nicollet  river  rises  in  the  south 
part  of  the  territory,  flows  north,  and  then  west  for  nearly  the  same  dis- 
tance as  the  Humboldt,  and  empties  itself  into  Nicollet  lake.  In  the 
north-east  part  of  the  basin.  Bear  river  enters  the  territory  from  Oregon, 


492  TERRITORY  OF  UTAH. 

and  is  the  principal  tributary  of  Great  Salt  lake.  The  Green  and 
Grand  rivers  traverse  the  eastern  basin  or  valley,  and  thence  flow  south- 
west into  New  Mexico.  The  Grand  river,  the  most  eastern  branch,  rising 
in  the  Rocky  mountains,  flows  south-west  to  meet  Green  river,  which  is 
the  larger  tributary',  and  has  its  sources  in  the  south-east  part  of  Oregon. 
These  streams  and  their  affluents  drain  the  entire  eastern  division  of 
Utah.  The  former  has  a  course  of  about  300,  and  the  latter  of  about 
400  miles. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — Of  these  there  is  no  scarcity 
in  this  widely  extended  Territory.  Among  the  most  remarkable  objects 
of  this  region,  is  the  Great  Salt  lake.  In  the  saltness  of  its  waters,  in 
the  circumstance  of  its  having  no  outlet,  and  being  fed  from  another 
smaller  and  fresh  water  lake,  (with  which  it  is  connected  by  a  stream  call- 
ed the  "Jordan,")  and  in  the  rugged  and  repulsive  character  of  some 
portions  of  the  surrounding  region,  it  bears  a  remarkable  resemblance 
to  the  Dead  sea  of  Palestine.  Instead,  however,  of  lying  1,000  feet 
below,  it  is  more  than  4,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea ;  its  waters, 
moreover,  being  an  almost  pure  solution  of  common  salt,  are  free  from 
that  pungency  and  nauseous  taste  which  characterize  those  of  the  Dead 
sea.  The  Pyramid  lake,  already  referred  to,  embosomed  in  the  Sierra 
Nevada  mountains,  with  the  singular  pyramidal  mount  rising  from  its 
transparent  waters  to  the  hight  of  perhaps  600  feet,  and  walled  in  by 
almost  perpendicular  precipices,  in  some  places  3,000  feet  high,  has  noth- 
ing, we  believe,  similar  to  it  within  the  borders  of  the  United  States. 
The  Boiling  Springs,  in  about  117°  30'  west  longitude,  and  39°  north  lati- 
tude, are  described  by  Fremont  as  boiling  up  at  irregular  intervals  with  much 
noise.  The  largest  basin  he  represents  as  being  several  hundred  feet  in 
circumference,  and  having  a  cii-cular  space  at  one  end  15  feet  in  diameter, 
entirely  filled  with  boiling  water.  A  pole  16  feet  in  length  was  entirely 
submerged  on  thrusting  it  down  near  the  center.  The  temperature  of 
the  water  near  the  edge  was  206°.  The  same  authority  describes  an 
appearance  similar  to  the  mirages  of  the  great  deserts  of  the  Old  World. 
In  traveling  over  the  salt  deserts  of  the  Fremont  basin,  they  saw  their 
party  reflected  in  the  air,  probably,  as  Fremont  suggests,  from  saline  part- 
icles floating  in  the  atmosphere.  N^ear  Brown's  hole,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Green  river,  in  about  41°  nord  latitude,  and  109°  west  longitude,  are  a 
number  of  narrow  canons  or  gorges,  with  nearly  perpendicular  walls  from 
300  to  800,  and  even  1,500  feet  in  hight,  presenting  scenes  of  great  wild- 
ness  and  grandeur. 

Climate. — As  elsewhere  remarked,  the  climate  of  the  great  plateau 
"between  the  Rocky  and  Sierra  Nevada  mountains,  seems  to  partake  of 
the  characteristics  of  the  great  Tartar  plains  of  Asia.  According  to 
Orson  Pratt,  the  midsummer  is  dry  and  hot,  the  heat  ranging  at  midday 
from  90°  to  105°,  but  with  cool  mornings  and  evenings,  refreshed  with 
mountain  breezes.  The  winters  are  mild,  snow  seldom  falling  more  than 
a  few  inches  deep  in  the  valleys,  nor  does  it  lie  long.  Spring  and  autumn, 
though  mild,  are  subject  to  sudden  changes,  and  the  wind  is  very  variable, 
shifting,  almost  every  day,  to  every  point  of  the  compass.  Rain  seldom 
falls  between  April  and  October  ;  but  when  heavy  showers  do  come,  they 


TERRITORY  OF  UTAH.  493 

are  generally  accorapanied  by  thunder  and  liail,  and  sometimes  with  strong 
■winds.  Dr.  Bernhisel  and  Mr.  Snow  say  that  the  climate  of  Great  Salt 
Lake  City,  in  latitude  40°  45'  north,  is  milder  and  drier  that  the  same  paral- 
lel on  the  Atlantic  coast,  and  the  temperature  more  uniform,  the  thermo- 
meter rarely  descending  to  zero.  During  three  years,  according  to  ob- 
servation, the  highest  point  attained  by  the  thermometer  was  100°  above, 
and  the  lowest  5°  below  zero.  The  variation  between  the  temperature 
of  day  and  night,  in  midsummer,  is  from  20°  to  40°.  Frosts  in  Utah 
valley  fall  as  late  as  the  last  of  May,  and  as  early  as  the  first  of  September. 

Soil  and  Productions. — A  very  small  portion,  comparatively  speak- 
ing, of  Utah,  can  ever  be  made  available  in  producing  food  for  man  or 
beast.  The  few  fertile  spots  are  found  in  the  valleys  watered  by  the  pure 
streams  flowing  from  the  neighboring  mountains,  and  at  the  bases  of 
most  of  the  mountains  is  a  strip  of  fertile  land.  The  line  of  Mormon 
settlements  occupy  the  valleys  from  north  to  south,  lying  near  the  western 
base  of  the  "Wahsatch  mountains.  These  are  highly  fertile.  Irrigation, 
however,  is  necessary  even  here  to  successful  husbandr}"^ ;  but  large  por- 
tions of  the  valleys  themselves  are  too  remote  from  streams  to  profit  by 
irrigation. 

Bear,  Great  Salt  Lake,  Utah,  South,  Sevier,  and  Land  Pitch  valleys, 
are  the  principal  agricultural  districts.  The  upper  portion  of  the  valleys 
of  the  Green  and  Grand  rivers  is  represented  as  "  incapable  of  support- 
ing any  population  whatever.  The  Unitah  and  Green  Eiver  valleys, 
lying  lower  down  ou  the  tributaries  of  the  Colorado,  are,  however,  not  so 
sterile." 

Wheat,  rye,  barley,  buckwheat,  Indian  corn,  and  the  garden  vegeta- 
bles of  the  Middle  States,  are  the  products  of  Utah.  There  is  a  fine 
bunch-grass,  which,  owing  to  the  dryness  of  the  climate,  does  not  decay, 
but  furnishes  fodder  for  the  cattle  during  winter,  without  being  cured. 
The  Indian  corn  and  vines  are  liable  to  be  blighted  by  early  and  late 
frosts.  The  experiments  in  rearing  fruits  do  not  appear  yet  to  have 
been  sufiiciently  tested  to  pronounce  definitely  as  to  the  congeniality  of 
the  climate  with  their  healthful  production;  peaches  and  other  fruits 
have,  however,  been  raised.  In  1850,  there  were  in  Utah,  16,333  acres 
of  improved  land,  divided  into  926  farms,  producing  107,702  bushels  of 
wheat;  210  of  rye;  9,899  of  Indian  corn;  10,900  of  oats;  289  of  peas 
and  beans;  43,968  of  Irish  potatoes;  60  of  sweet  potatoes;  1,799  of 
barley,  and  332  of  buckwheat;  70  pounds  of  tobacco;  9,222  of  wool, 
83,309  of  butter;  and  30,998  of  cheese;  live  stock  valued  at  $546,968; 
market  produce  at  §23, 868;  slaughtered  animals  at  $67,985;  and  4,805 
tons  of  hay;  besides  small  quantities  of  grass-seeds,  hops,  flax,  molasses; 
beeswax,  and  honey. 

Forest  Trees. — Timber  is  scarce  throughout  this  Territory,  except 
on  the  mountains,  and  is  principally  composed  of  pine  and  fir  trees. 
There  are  some  groves  of  cotttonwood  and  box-elder  in  the  bottoms  of 
the  principal  streams,  and  a  scrub  cedar  also  in  some  of  the  valleys. 
Wood,  both  for  building  and  fuel,  is  scarce. 

Animals. — This  region  is  scarcely  more  fruitful  in  animal  than  vege- 
table life,  but  elk,  deer,  antelopes,  grizzly  bears,  mountain  sheep,  foxes, 


494  TERRITORY  OF  UTAH. 

and  wolves  arc  found.  Water-fowl  arc  abundant  in  the  lakes,  and  trout 
and  very  fine  salmon  in  the  mountain  streams. 

^Manufactures. — Much  progress  in  manufactures  is  hardly  to  be  ex- 
pected in  so  youthful  a  settlement ;  but  Mr.  Pratt  represents  them  as 
starting  up  with  vigor,  particularly  the  manuf  icturc  of  flour,  and  the  more 
necessary  implements  of  husbandry  and  housewifery,  and  the  cheaper 
stuffs  for  clothing.  The  great  distance  from  supplies  from  abroad,  and 
the  great  cost  of  transport,  must  perforce,  encourage  home  manufactures. 
The  census  of  1850  reports  only  14  establishments  engaged  in  mining, 
manufactures,  and  the  mechanic  arts,  producing  each  S500  and  upward 
annually,  employing  §44,400  capital  and  51  male  hands,  consuming  raw 
material  worth  §337, 381,  and  yielding  products  valued  at  §291,225. 
Homemade  manufactures  were  produced  in  the  same  year  to  the  value  of 
$1,391. 

Commerce. — The  trade  of  Utah  is  pretty  much  confined  to  traflSc  with 
the  overland  emigrants  to  California.  They  find  also  a  ready  sale  for 
their  live  stock  in  the  same  State.  It  is  possible  that  a  trade  down  the 
Colorado  river  with  California  may  be  opened  at  some  future  day,  as  re- 
cent explorers  report  that  river  navigable  for  steamers  of  light  draft 
above  the  Rio  Virgen,  in  New  3Iexico. 

Education. — The  American  spirit  seems  to  pervade  the  people  of  Utah 
on  the  all-important  subject  of  education.  According  to  Mr.  Pratt, 
"great  attention  is  being  paid  to  the  erection  of  school-houses,  and  the 
education  of  youth.  It  is  in  contemplation  to  erect  a  magnificent  Uni- 
versity, in  which  the  higher  departments  of  science  will  be  extensively 
taught." 

Religion. — According  to  the  census  report,  there  were  9  churches  in 
Utab  in  1850 — it  is  presumed  all  Mormon,  though  they  are  reported 
under  the  heading  of  minor  sects.  Number  of  Individuals  to  each 
church,  1,264;  value  of  church  property,  $51,000.  One-tenth  of  their 
property  is  required  by  their  canons  to  be  given  to  the  church.  Meas- 
ures have  been  taken   for  the  erection  of  a  vast  temple  at  Salt  Lake 

Counties. — Utah  is  divided  into  thirteen  counties,  viz.,  Box-Elder, 
Carson,  Davis,  Green  River,  Iron,  Juab,  Millard,  Ogden,  Salt  Lake,  San 
Pete,  Tooele,  Utah,  and  "Weber.     Capital,  Fillmore  city. 

Cities  and  Towns. — The  principal  town  is  Great  Salt  Lake  City, 
population  about  10,000.  The  other  principal  places  are  Brownsville, 
Ogden  city.  Prove  city,  Manti  city,  Fillmore  city,  and  Parovan.  These 
towns  are  mostly  built  of  adobes  or  unburnt  bricks,  and  are  named  (with 
the  exception  of  Salt  Lake  City)  in  order,  proceeding  from  north  to 
south,  and  scattered  over  a  space  of  nearly  300  miles,  mostly  near  the 
base  of  the  Wuhsatch  mountains.  Buildings  are  being  erected  for  the 
State  capitol  and  State  prison  at  Fillmore  city. 

Population. — The  pcpulation  is  principally  composed  of  Mormons, 
who  settled  here  in  1847,  after  their  expulsion  from  Missouri  and 
Illinois.  Continual  accessions  of  this  new  sect  are  arriving  from  all 
parts  of  the  Union,  and  from  Europe.  According  to  the  national  census 
of  1850,  thsre  were  11,380  inhabitants;  of  whom  62,020  were  white  males; 


'  TERRITORY  OF  UTAH.  495 

5,310  white  females;  14  colored  males;  10  colored  females,  and  26  slaves. 
This  population  was  divided  into  2,322  families,  occupying  the  same 
number  of  dwellings.  According  to  an  enumeration  made  in  1853,  by 
the  Mormons  themselves,  the  total  population  was  18,206,  exclusive  of 
Indians,  of  whom  there  are  several  tribes  in  a  very  degraded  state,  sub- 
sistiug  mostly  on  roots,  berries,  fish,  etc.,  and  living  generally  in  caves  or 
bushes,  but  sometimes  in  wigwams  or  tents,  and  going  nearly  naked.  Of 
the  white  population,  in  1850,  1,159  were  born  in  the  Territory;  8,117  in 
other  parts  of  the  Union ;  1,056  in  England;  106  in  Ireland;  232  in 
Scotland;  125  in  Wales,  and  471  in  other  countries.  In  the  year  end- 
ing June  1,  1850,  there  occurred  239  deatiis,  or  more  than  21  in  every 
1,000  persons.  Of  the  entire  population  2  were  blind,  5  insane,  and  1 
idiotic. 

Government. — The  government  of  Utah  is  similar  to  that  of  other 
territories. 

History. — The  materials  for  a  history  of  Utah  are  very  meagre.  As  has 
elsewhere  been  stated,  it  was  a  part  of  the  Territory  of  Upper  California, 
acquired  from  Mexico  by  the  treaty  of  1848,  after  the  conclusion  of  the 
late  war  with  that  country.  Previous  to  1847,  when  the  Mormons  com- 
menced directing  their  steps  thither,  it  had  been  in  possession  of  the  mis- 
erable tribes  that  gained  a  most  precarious  living  from  its  churlish  soil — 
undisturbed,  except  by  the  occasional  visits  of  exploring  parties  or  roam- 
ing trappers  and  hunters.  ^ 

Salt  Lake  City,  capital  of  Salt  Lake  county,  and  of  Utah  Territory, 
is  situated  near  the  east  bank  of  the  Jordan  river,  which  connects  Great 
Salt  lake  with  Utah  lake,  about  22  miles  south-east  of  the  Great  Salt  lake, 
and  4,200  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  It  was  laid  out  in  July, 
1847,  by  a  company  of  143  Mormons.  The  city  contains  260  blocks 
of  10  acres  each,  separated  by  streets  which  are  128  feet  wide.  There 
are  8  houses  in  each  block,  so  arranged  that  no  two  houses  front  each 
other.  The  houses  are  built  of  adobes  or  sun-dried  bricks.  The  4 
public  squares  of  the  city  are  to  be  adorned  with  trees  from  the  four 
quarters  of  the  globe,  and  supplied  with  fountains.  On  one  of  these  a 
magnificent  temple  is  now  being  erected;  and  a  gorgeous  banner,  con- 
structed of  the  Hags  of  all  nations,  is  ere  long  to  be  unfurled  from  the 
"Ensign  Mount,"  which  overlooks  the  new  city  of  the  "Saints."  Salt 
Lake  City  contains  a  handsome  theater,  which  cost  above  $20,000. 

The  climate  of  the  valley  in  which  the  city  stands  is  very  salubrious, 
and  the  soil  where,  it  can  be  irrigated,  is  extremely  fertile.  Wheat  is 
said  to  produce,  under  favorable  circumstances,  a  hundred-fold.  The 
mountains  which  enclose  the  valley  on  the  east  side  are  covered  with 
perpetual  snow.  Their  summits  are  said  to  be  about  10,000  feet  (nearly 
2  miles)  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Population  in  1853,  estimated  at 
10,000. 


496  TERRITORY  OF  NEW  MEXICO. 


NEW  MEXICO. 


This  Territory  is  a  portion  of  the  tract  acquired  from  Mexico  by  the 
treaties  of  1848  and  185t,  extends  from  31°  20'  to  38°  north  latitude,  and 
from  103°  to  117°  west  longitude,  being  about  700  miles  in  extreme  length 
from  east  to  west,  and  abnut  470  miles  in  breadth  from  north  to  south, 
including  an  area  of  207,007  square  miles.  It  is  bounded  north  by  Utah 
and  Kansas  Territories,  cast  by  Kansas  and  the  Indian  Territories  and 
Texas,  south  by  Texas  and  Mexico,  and  west  by  California. 

Face  of  the  Country,  etc. — This  extensive  tract  is  for  the  most 
part  a  high  table-land,  crossed  by  several  ranges  of  mountains,  and 
generally  deslined  to  hopeless  sterility.  The  vallies  of  the  Rio  Grande 
and  its  tributaries  occupy  the  eastern  part  of  New  Mexico,  and  lie 
between  and  among  different  rangs  of  the  Kncky  mountain  chain,  which 
crosses  the  Territory  from  north  to  south.  The  western  limit  of  the  Rio 
Grande  valley  is  the  Sierra  Madre  mountains,  and  the  eastern,  the  Juma- 
nes,  the  Del  Cabello,  and  other  ranges  of  the  Rocky  mountains.  Much  the 
larger  portion  of  theTerritory  lies  west  of  the  Sierra  Madre  mountains,  and 
partakes  of  the  general  character  of  the  Fremont  basin.  (See  Utah.)  The 
mountain  ranges  in  the  east  are  the  Guadalupe,  Sacramento,  Organ  (Sierra 
de  los  Organos,)  Sierra  Blanca,  Hueca,  and  other  divisions  which  diverge 
from  the  main  chain  of  the  Kocky  mountains,  and  pass  off  into  Texas,  form- 
ing the  western  boundary  of  the  valley  of  the  Pecos.  A  broken  ridge 
of  mountains  coasts  the  Gila  river  for  a  considerable  distance,  com- 
pletely hemming  it  in  for  a  great  part  of  its  course,  and  rising,  according 
to  Major  Emory,  to  4,347  and  5,274  feet,  in  two  places  estimated  by 
him.  Mount  Taylor,  in  a  south-west  direction  from  Santa  Fe,  among  the 
Sierra  Madre  mountaius,  has  been  computed  at  10,000  feet  elevation 
above  the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande,  itself  a  high  table-land  of  6,000  feet 
in  the  north  part,  4,800  feet  at  Albuquerque,  and  3,000  feet  at  El  Paso. 
West  of  the  Sierra  Madre  are  several  detached  ranges  of  which  we  know 
but  little,  and  which  traverse  a  country  for  the  most  part  sterile,  except 
in  occasional  narrow  vail  -ys,  which  bt^rder  the  streams. 

Minerals. — It  is  highly  probable  that  New  Mexico  abounds  in  the 
precious  metals,  but  owing  to  the  jealousy  of  the  aborigines,  and  the 
uiiskillfulness  with  which,,  even  when  worked  at  all,  they  have  beei 
maaag.  d,  they  have  not,  so  far  as  we  are  informed,  hitherto  produced 
abuiiJanily;  yet  gold  and  silver  are  known  to  exist,  and  mines  of  both 
metals  have  been  worked.  Gold  has  been  found  in  several  places 
between  and  almg  the  Gila  and  Colorado  rivers,  and  the  indications 
are,  that  the  precious  ore  will,  at  a  future  day,  be  largely  produced 
here.  Mines  of  this  metal  have  been  worked  in  a  district  among  the 
Placer  mountains,  40  mil  s  south-west  of  Santa  Fe;  but  it  is  said  to  be 
found  most  abundantly  about  the  San  Pedro  river,  which  empties  into 


TERRITORY  OF  NEW  MEXICO.  497 

the  Gila  from  the  south.  Silver  mines,  80  miles  north-east  of  El  Paso,  and 
near  Dona  Ana,  are  reputed  to  be  the  richest  in  New  Mexico.  This  metal 
also  exists  south  of  the  Gila  toward  its  mouth.  Iron  occurs  in  abundance, 
and  gypsum  in  large  quantities  has  been  found  near  Algadones;  copper 
is  plentiful,  and  mines  of  that  metal  were  extensively  worked  in  the 
vicinity  of  what  is  now  Fort  Webster  previous  to  1838,  when  the  forays 
of  the  Indians  caused  their  abandonment.  Gold  is  found  in  the  same 
vicinity.  Some  coal  is  found,  and  salt  lakes,  about  100  miles  south-south- 
east of  Santa  Fe,  have  been  resorted  to  for  that  necessary  culinary  article. 
Recent  reports  state  that  silver  mines  have  been  discovered  about  18  miles 
east  of  Fort  Fillmore.     Lead  is  also  found. 

Rivers. — The  Rio  Grande,  or  Rio  Bravo  del  Norte,  as  it  was  formerly 
called,  which  crosses  the  entire  Territory  from  north  to  south  is  the  largest 
river  of  New  Mexico,  and  drains  the  great  valley  which  lies  between  the 
Sierra  Madre  mountains  on  the  west,  and  the  Jumanes,  and  the  Sierra 
Hueca  or  Waco  mountains  on  the  east.  The  Pecos  river  drains  the 
eastern  slope  of  the  same  mountains,  and  passes  oflf  into  Texas.  The 
Puerco,  a  river  of  20U  miles  in  length,  is  the  principal  tributary  of 
the  Rio  Grande  from  the  west;  but  in  the  hot  season  it  is  often  com- 
pletely evaporated  in  the  lower  part  of  its  course,  rendering  no  tribute 
whatever  to  the  parent  stream.  The  Canadian  river  has  its  sources  in  the 
north-east  of  New  Mexico,  from  which  it  runs  in  a  south-east  direction,  to 
join  the  Arkansas.  The  Gila,  which  rises  on  the  western  slope  of  the 
Sierra  Madre,  runs  almost  directly  west  to  its  mouth  in  the  Colorado.  The 
Salinas,  its  principal  tributary  from  the  north,  drains  the  central  regions 
of  the  Territory.  The  San  Pedro  is  the  most  important  affluent  from 
the  south.  The  San  Francisco  empties  itself  into  the  Salinas.  The  Colorado 
is  formed  by  the  Green  and  Grand  rivers,  which  unite  in  about  36°  north 
latitude,  and  running  south-west  for  about  150  miles,  receives  theVirgen, 
turns  to  the  south,  andforms  the  west  boundary,  from  36°  north  latitude, 
to  20  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Gila.  These  rivers  are  of  very  little  im- 
portance to  navigation,  seldom  being  deep  enough  for  any  craft  beyond  a 
canoe  or  flat-boat.*  Indeed,  for  a  great  part  of  the  year,  the  tributary 
rivers  have  either  dry  channels,  or  area  succession  of  pools.  Major  Emory 
found  the  Rio  Grande  itself  but  25  yards  wide,  and  hub-deep  at  Albu- 
querque, 300  miles  from  its  source.  He  also  states  that  it  seldom  rises 
more  than  two  feet.  Lieutenant  Simpson  found  it  200  yards  wide,  and 
four  feet  deep,  150  miles  further  south,  in  September,  1849.  He  afterward 
mentions  crossing  in  a  ferry  at  Albuquerque. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — Crossed  as  New  Mexico  is  by 
lofty  chains  of  mountains,  it  can  not  fail  to  possess  many  objects  of 
striking  interest  in  its  scenery;  but  they  have  been  hitherto  imperfectly 
explored  west  of  the  Rio  Grande.  Among  and  beyond  the  Sierra  Madre 
mountains,  are  vast  canons,  (kan-yons',  i.  e.  deep  channels  in  the  earth, 
mostly  forming  the  beds  of  streams,  often  two  or  three  hundred  feet  in 
depth,  and  almost  shut  out  from  the  light  of  day.     In  the  same  region 

*A  correspondent  of  the  San  Francisco  Herald,  in  the  summer  of  1854,  says  of 
the  Colorado :  "At  no  point  from  Fort  Yuma  to  tho  mouth  of  the  Virgen,  is  tha 
t  water  less  than  10  feet  deep." 
32 


498  TERRITORY  OF  NEW  MEXICO. 

are  found  steep  bluffs  of  red  and  white  sandstone  rock,  worn  by  the 
action  of  the  elements  into  very  striking  resemblances  of  fortresses,  castles, 
etc.  Lietonant  Simpson  has  given  some  sketches  of  the  most  remarkable, 
in  his  recent  work  on  New  Mexico.  One  curiosity  of  the  country  is  the 
deserted  pueblos,  or  Indian  villages,  which  give  evidence  of  having  been 
the  abode  of  a  much  more  dense  population  than  subsists  there  at  present, 

"  Cascade  Grotto,"  says  Lieutenant  Whipple,  "  is  too  wildly  beautiful 
to  pass  unnoticed.  A  series  of  cascades,  formed  by  a  mineral  spring, 
which  gushes  from  the  mountain,  leap  from  cliff  to  cliff,  until  they  join 
the  Gila,  1,000  feet  below.  Beneath  the  first  water-fall  is  a  charming  cave, 
filled  with  petrifactions.  Among  the  Organ  mountains,  (themselves  an 
object  of  great  interest,  rising  as  they  do  3,000  feet  above  the  river,)  a 
little  stream  whose  source  is  far  within  a  defile,  tumbles  overlie  rocks 
in  a  single  fall  of  50  feet."  The  celebrated  Captain  Walker  reports 
two  extraordinary  falls  in  the  Rio  Virgen,  one  200  miles  from  its  mouth, 
with  a  perpendicular  descent,  in  one  unbroken  sheet,  of  1,000  feet,  where 
the  stream  is  narrowed  to  30  or  40  yards,  and  the  canon  rises  on  each 
side  to  a  nearly  perpendicular  hight  of  200  feet;  and  a  second  fall  of 
200  or  300  feet,  about  30  miles  higher  up.  The  same  authority  thus 
speaks  of  the  great  canon  of  the  Colorado:  "One  of  the  most  extraordi- 
nary natural  features  on  the  continent,  which  extends  for  300  miles 
above  the  mouth  of  the  Virgen  river,  with  lofty  and  almost  pei-pen- 
dieular  sides,  suggesting  the  idea  that  the  river  had  cleft  its  path 
entirely  through  the  mountain.  The  waters  wash  up  against  the  walls 
of  the  precipice,  leaving  not  a  foot  of  space  between."  From  the  same 
source  we  learn  that  "  the  country  is  entirely  cut  up  with  rocky  ravines 
and  fissures."  A  canon  that  Captain  Walker  traversed — apparently  the 
bed  of  a  spring-torrent — in  one  instance  entirely  closed  over  his  head, 
forming  a  natural  tunnel  200  feet  deep. 

Climate. — The  habitable  part  of  the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande  lies  in 
the  latitude  of  the  northern  and  central  portions  of  the  southern  States; 
but  its  climate  is  very  much  modified  by  its  great  elevation,  giving  it  a 
temperate  but  constant  climate.  The  mercury  sometimes  rises  to  100°, 
but  the  evenings  are  always  cool.  Some  of  the  higher  peaks  of  the 
mountains  are  covered  with  perpetual  snow.  Considerable  rain  falls 
between  July  and  October,  but  New  Mexico  has  essentially  a  dry 
atmosphere,  being  most  of  the  year  parched  where  there  is  no  irrigation. 

Soil  and  Productions. — We  have  already  characterized  the  soil  as 
generally  hopelessly  sterile,  but  this  generalization  is  not  without  con- 
siderable exceptions,  as  many  parts  of  the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande, 
and  of  other  streams,  are  highly  productive,  and  yield  fine  crops  of 
Indian  corn,  wheat,  and  other  grains,  besides  apples,  peaches,  melons, 
apricots,  and  grapes.  Among  the  vallies  of  the  Sierra  Blanca,  in  the 
north-east  of  New  Mexico,  the  pasturage  is  excellent;  and  the  large  valley 
of  San  Luis  in  the  same  region,  is  one  of  the  most  fertile  in  the  Territory. 
But  in  most  places  irrigation  is  necessary  to  successful  agricultural 
operations.  During  the  dry  season,  however,  in  some  districts,  even 
this  resource  fails,  from  the  total  evaporation  of  the  streams.  On  the 
table-lands  which  are  utterly  useless  for  agriculture,  there  grows  a  pecu- 


TERRITORY  OP  NEW  MEXICO.  49& 

liar  grass,  wbicli  in  the  dry  season  cures  and  preserves  its  nutritious 
qualities.  On  this  cattle,  sheep,  horses  and  mules  feed  all  the  winter, 
and  preserve  themselves  in  good  condition.  The  mutton  of  New  Mexico 
is  excellent.  The  Indians  on  the  Gila  cultivate  cotton,  wheat,  Indian 
corn,  beans,  melons,  and  other  vegetables,  by  means  of  irrigation,  and 
a  small  quantity  of  buckwheat,  wine,  butter,  potatoes  and  molasses.  Ac- 
cording to  the  census  of  1S50,  there  were  in  New  Mexico  3,750  farms, 
occupying  166,201  acres  of  improved  land,  producing  195,515  bushels 
of  wheat;  365,411  of  Indian  corn;  15,688  of  peas  and  beans;  8,467 
pounds  of  tobacco;  32,901  of  wool,  and  5,848  of  cheese;  livestock 
valued  at  $1,494,629;  market  garden  products,  $6,679;  orchard,  $8,231; 
and  slaughtered  animals,  $82,125. 

Forest  Trees. — Only  a  small  portion  of  the  surface  is  covered  with 
forests,  and  the  country  is  almost  entirely  destitute  of  the  hard  woods. 
Some  of  the  streams  are  fringed  with  cottonwood,  and  pine  of  an  inferior 
quality  occurs  on  the  mountains.  Sycamore,  ash,  cedar,  walnut,  ever- 
green, oak,  and  willow,  are  found  in  small  quantities. 

Animals. — The  deer,  mountain-sheep,  wild-hog,  antelope,  caugar, 
ocelot,  lynx,  brown,  black,  and  grizzly  bear,  coyote,  wolf,  marmot, 
skunk,  weasel,  hare,  rabbit,  squirrel,  beaver,  and  elk,  are  the  principal 
quadrupeds  north  of  the  Gila;  turkey,  geese,  brant,  swans,  ducks,  scorpions, 
and  lizards  are  met  with  in  this  Territory,  through  animal  does  not 
appear  to  be  more  prolific  than  vegetable  life  in  this  region. 

Manufactures. — Twenty  establishments,  each  producing  $500  and 
upward  annually,  were  reported  by  the  census  of  1850  as  engaged  in 
manufactures,  mining,  and  the  mechanic  arts,  employing  $68,000  capital, 
81  hands,  and  raw  material  worth  $100,000,  yielding  products  valued  at 
$249,010.  Domestic  manufactures  were  produced  to  the  value  of 
$6,033. 

Education. — On  this  head  there  is  little  to  be  said  at  present,  but 
to  speak  of  its  absence,  and  to  urge  its  introduction.  According  to 
the  census  report  of  1850,  there  were  in  New  Mexico  one  academy, 
with  40  students,  466  children  attended  schools,  and  25,089  adults  who 
could  not  read  nor  write,  of  whom  660  were  of  foreign  birth. 

Religious  Denominations. — In  1850,  there  were  73  churches,  all 
belonging  to  the  lloman  Catholics,  giving  one  church  to  every  835  in- 
habitants.    Value  of  church  property,  $94,100. 

Periodicals. — In  1850,  there  were  published  in  New  Mexico,  one 
weekly  and  one  tri-weckly  newspaper,  with  an  aggregate  annual  circula- 
tion of  38,800  copies. 

Population. — The  population  of  New  Mexico  is  of  a  very  mixed 
character,  but  composed  fur  the  most  part  of  domesticated  nomad  In- 
dians, with  an  intermixture  of  Mexicans  and  Americans.  According 
to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were  61,547  inhabitants,  (exclusive  of 
Indians,)  of  whom  31,725  were  white  males,  and  29,800  females;  19 
free  colored  males,  and  3  females;  38  were  d^af  and  dumb;  98  blindj 
11  insane,  and  44  idiots.  In  the  twelve  months  preceding  June  1, 
1850,  there  occurred  1,157  deaths,  or  nearly  19  in  every  one  thousand 
persons.     This  population  was  divided  into  13,502  families,  occupying 


500  TERRITORY  OF  NEW  MEXICO. 

13,453  dwellings.  Population  to  square  uiile,  ?>0.  Of  the  whole,  58,415 
wore  born  in  the  Territory;  772  in  other  parts  of  the  United  States;  43 
in  Euiifland;  292  in  Ireland;  30  in  Scotland  and  Wales;  215  in  Germany; 
26  in  France;  38  in  British  America;  1,507  in  other  foreign  countries, 
and  209  whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown.  Of  the  whole  population, 
9  were  eul^a'1•ed  in  mining;  1-1:,084  in  ordinary  labor  and  in  agriculture; 
233  in  trade,  803  in  manufacturing;  and  12G  in  the  learned  professions. 
The  Indian  population,  according  to  the  estimate  of  the  Indian  Bureau  at 
"Washington,  was  45,000  in  1853. 

According  to  3Ir.  Bartlett,  "In  the  district  of  country  bounded  on  the 
east  by  the  Rocky  mountains,  the  west  by  the  Colorado  river,  the  south 
by  the  river  Gila,  and  extending  northward  about  300  miles,  there  exist 
many  Indian  tribes  which  have  attained  a  higher  rank  iu  civilization 
than  any  other  aborigines  of  the  North  American  continent  north  of  the 
valley  of  Mexico.  The  tribes  of  which  I  am  ?]>eaking  cultivate  the 
soil,  raise  wheat,  corn,  and  other  articles  for  their  subsistance;  cotton, 
which  they  spin  and  weave  into  garments  to  cover  their  bodies ;  horses 
and  cattle;  and  they  erect  their  own  dwellings,  of  greater  or  less  capacity. 
In  their  pottery  and  household  implements,  too,  they  are  before  all 
others. 

There  is  now  in  ruins,  (situated  on  the  Chaco,  a  branch  of  the  San 
Juan,)  the  Pueblo  Pintado,  built  of  tabular  pieces  of  hard,  gray  lime- 
stone, three  stories  high,  and  containing  on  the  ground-floor  54  apart- 
ments, some  of  them  not  more  than  five  feet  square,  and  the  largest  12 
by  6 ;  also  the  Pueblo  Wegi-gi  with  a  circuit  of  700  feet,  and  containing 
90  apartments  on  the  first  floor;  the  Pueblo  Una-vida  with  a  circuit  of 
994  feet;  the  Hungo-Pavie  with  a  circuit  of  872  feet,  and  72  rooms 
upon  the  ground-floor;  and  the  Pueblo  Chettro-Kettle,  with  a  circuit  of 
1,300  feet,  and  124  apartments  on  the  gound-floor.  These  several  build- 
ings were  of  three  or  four  stories,  one  receding  from  the  other,  and  all 
built  of  stone.  Near  the  latter  is  a  ruined  edifice,  about  l,3O0  feet  in 
circuit,  which  had  been  four  stories  high,  with  139  rooms  on  the  ground- 
floor.  Allowing  each  story  to  recede  as  before,  and  the  upper  apartments 
to  correspond  with  those  below,  this  building  contained  not  less  than  641 
apartments.  Two  miles  beyond  this  are  the  ruins  of  a  still  larger  build- 
ing, called  the  Penasca  Blanca,  having  a  circuit  of  1,700  feet. 

The  Puebb  of  Taos,  in  New  Mexico,  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
now  existing.  It  consists  of  an  edifice  about  400  feet  long  by  59 
wide,  and  is  divided  into  long  ranges  of  apartments  one  above  the 
other,  forming  a  pyramidal  pile  of  50  or  60  feet,  and  five  or  six  stories 
in  hight.  This  great  building,  it  is  said,  affords  habitations  for  five  or 
six  hundred  people. 

The  second  class,  where  the  tribe  or  community  live  in  a  village, 
consist  of  buildings  generally  of  one  story,  but  sometimes  of  two. 
When  of  the  latter,  the  entrance  is  by  ladders  from  the  outside,  as 
before  mentined.  The  object  of  this  is  to  render  them  perfectly  isolated, 
and  to  afford  them  protfjtion  from  an  enemy.  To  render  these  dwellings 
more  secure,  villages  and  large  edifices  are  usually  built  upon  the  summit 
of  a  rock,  or  hill,  and  when  this  is  not  convenient  on  the  open  plateau, 


TERRITORY  OF  NEW  MEXICO.  501 

where  there  is  neither  tree,  bush,  nor  rock  to  conceal  an  enemy.  These 
people  often  choose  a  spot  near  some  eminence  which  may  command  a 
view  of  the  adjacent  country,  where  they  may  establish  a  look-out,  and 
place  a  sentinel  to  give  warning,  if  an  enemy  should  approach." 

Counties. — There  are  eight  counties  in  New  Mexicr),  viz:  Bernallillo, 
Rio  Arriba,  Santa  Anna,  Santa  Fe,  San  Miguel,  Tao-s,  Valencia,  and 
Socorro.     Capital,  Santa  Fe. 

Towns. — The  principal  settlement  (we  use  this  term  because  the 
limits  of  the  towns  are  not  defined  with  much  accuracy)  are  Santa  Fe, 
population  4,846;  LaCuesta,  2,196;  St.  Miguel,  2,008;  Las  Vegas,  1,650, 
Zuni  or  Tuni,  (an  Indian  puebia  or  village,)  1,'292,  and  Tuckelata,  1,320. 
Government. — New  Mexico,  in  common  with  all  other  territories 
of  the  United  States,  has  a  governor  appointed  by  the  President  and 
Senate  of  the  United  States,  who  is  also  superintendent  of  Indian 
affairs,  and  receives  a  salary  of  $2,500  per  annum.  It  has  a  council  of 
13  members,  elected  for  two  years,  and  a  house  of  representatives  of  26 
members,  elected  annually.  The  judiciary,  appointed  by  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  with  the  advice  of  the  Senate,  is  composed  of  a 
chief  and  two  associate  judges,  receiving  $2,000  each  per  annum.  As- 
sessed value  of  property  in  1850,  $5,063,474.     Banks,  none. 

History. — Lying  in  the  interior,  and  possessing  no  very  great  induce- 
ments to  tempt  emigration  thither,  New  Mexico  has  not  been  the  theater 
of  many  striking  events  in  history.     As  elsewhere  stated,  traces  exist  in 
the  deserted  and  ruined  pueblos  of  a  much  more  dense  Indian  or  Aztec 
population,  in  former   times  than  at  present.     It  formed  a  Mexican  pro- 
vince or  department  until  the  conquest  of  Mexico  by  the   Americans, 
when,    in    Sept.    1850,    it   was   constituted,  with    a   portion    of  Upper 
California  and  Texas,  a  Territory  of  the  United  States,  under  its  present 
title.     In  1854,  its  area  was   still  further   increased  by  a  purchase  of  a 
portion  of  the  north  part  of  Mexico,  thus  extending  its  southern  boundary 
I  in  one  instance  to  31°  20' north  latitude.     The  inhabitants  are  very  much 
I  harassed  by  inroads  from  the   Indians,  who  frequently  attack  the  settle- 
)  ments,  murder  or  carry  off  the  men,  women,  and  children,  and  drive  off 
'  the  flocks. 

Santa  Fe. — The  capital  and  largest  town  of  New  Mexico,  is  situated 

;  on  the  Rio  Chicito,  or  Santa  Fe  river,  an  affluent  of  the  Rio  Grande, 

I  from  which  it  is  distant  about  20  miles  in  a  direct  line.     Latitude  35°  41 

i  north,  longitude  about  106°  10'  west.     It  is  the  great  emporium  of  the  over- 

I  land  trade  which,  since  1822,  has  been  carried  on  with  the  State  of  Missouri. 

(Each  of  the  houses,  which  are  principally  built  of  dark-colored  adobes,  or 

junburnt  brick,  usually  forms  a  square,  with  a  court  within,  upon  which 

I  nearly  all  the  apartments  open  from  the  street.      There  is  generally  but 

lone  entrance,  which  is  wide  and  high  enough  to  admit  animals  with  their 

jpacks.     Much  of  the  ground  in  an  around  Santa  Fe  is  extremely  sandy; 

jund  in  dry  weather,  when  the  wind  is   high,  this  is  a   source   of  great 

iinnoyance.     The   place   is  well  supplied  with  cool  water  from  springs 

[within  its  limits,  and  also  from  fountains  above  the  city  near  the  mountain 

'(Side.     Numerous  accquias,  (a-sa'ke-as,)  or  small  canals,  arc  led  through 

jihe  streets,  and  afterward  serve  to  irrigate  the  gardens  and  fields  below 


502  TERRITORY  OF  NEW  MEXICO. 

the  town  for  several  miles.  On  the  whole,  the  appearance  of  Santa  Fe  is 
very  uninviting,  and  the  population  is  exceedingly  depraved.  It  stands 
on  a  plateau,  which  is  elevated  about  7,000  feet  above  the  sea,  and  a 
short  distance  south-west  of  the  base  of  a  snow-capped  mountain,  which 
rises  5,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  town.  One  or  two  newspapers  are 
issued  here.     Population  in  1850,  4,840. 


TEXAS. 


Texas,  with  the  exception  of  Florida,  now  forms  the  southernmost 
portion  of  the  United  States.  It  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  New  Mexico, 
the  Indian  Territory,  and  Arkansas ;  on  the  east  by  Arkansas  and  Louis- 
iana; on  the  south-east  by  the  Gulf  of  Mexico;  and  on  south-west  and 
west  by  Mexico  and  New  Mexico.  The  Red  river  separates  it  in  part  from 
the  Indian  Territory  and  Arkansas,  the  Sabine  from  Louisiana,  and  the 
Rio  Grande  from  Mexico.  This  State  lies  between  25°  50'  and  86°  30' 
north  latitude,  and  between  93'^  30'  and  107°  west  longitude.  Its  shape 
is  very  irregular,  but  its  extreme  length  from  south-east  to  north-west  is 
more  than  800  miles,  and  its  greatest  breadth  from  east  to  west  about  750 
miles,  including  an  area  of  237,504  square  miles  :  an  amount  of  territory 
nearly  six  times  that  of  the  State  of  Pensylvania,  the  greater  part  of  which 
is  composed  of  soil  of  great  agricultural  capabilities. 

Face  of  the  Country. — This  great  State  embraces  every  variety  of 
surface,  mountain,  plain,  hill,  and  desert  within  its  limits.  In  the  south- 
east, along  the  coast  is  a  level  belt  of  land  from  30  to  60  miles  in  breadth, 
which  is  succeeded  by  an  undulating  and  prairie  country,  occupying 
another  belt  of  from  150  to  200  miles  in  width,  which  is  followed  in  the 
west  and  north-west  by  the  mountainous  region  and  the  table-land. 
The  extreme  north  is  invaded  by  the  Great  American  Desert,  which 
extends  perhaps  about  60  miles  within  the  boundary  of  Texas.  Ac- 
cording to  Mr.  Bartlett,  the  plateau  of  Texas,  including  part  of  New 
Mexico,  extends  from  30°  to  34°  north  latitude,  and  from  the  Rio  Grande 
east  for  300  miles.  The  north  portion,  called  Llano  Estacado  or  "Staked 
Plain,"  is  2,500  feet  above  the  sea.  This  broad  district  is  destitute  of 
forest  trees  and  shrubbery,  except  along  the  margins  of  the  streams, 
and  even  there  never  extending  100  yards  from  the  banks.  Just 
after  rains  a  short  stunted  grass  springs  up,  but  speedily  becomes  dry, 
affording  little  nourishment.  In  this  region  rise  the  Red,  Brazos,  and 
Colorado  rivers.  About  29°  30'  north  latitude,  the  table -land  breaks 
off  into  spurs,  which  descend  to  the  prairies.     The  rivers  have  generally 


i 


TEXAS.  503 

alluvial  bottoms  of  from  3  to  20  miles  in  width,  which  are  of  great  fertility, 
and  heavily  timbered.  The  belts  referred  to  above  run  across  the  State  in 
a  direction  nearly  north-east  and  south-west,  so  that  almost  all  the  north 
part  of  eastern  Texas  is  included  in  the  second  division,  or  the  undulating 
country.  Little  is  known  of  the  elevated  lands  of  the  west  and  north- 
west, as  they  are  yet  the  home  of  few  white  men  except  the  hunters,  who 
pursue  its  buffaloes  and  other  wild  animals.  It  is,  however,  represented 
as  being  a  well-watered  and  fertile  region.  A  low  range  of  mountains, 
called  the  Colorado  hills,  runs  in  a  north  and  south  direction,  east  of 
the  Colorado  river ;  indeed,  the  whole  section  of  the  State  in  the  same 
parallel,  between  the  Colorado  and  Brazos  rivers,  is  broken  with  low 
mountains.  Between  the  Colorado  and  the  Rio  Grande,  and  north  of  the 
sources  of  the  Nueces  and  San  Antonio,  the  country  is  crossed  by  broken 
ranges  of  mountains  running  in  various  directions,  but  of  whose  altitude 
and  character  we  have  little  reliable  information.  They  appear,  however, 
to  be  outlying  ridges  of  the  great  Rocky  mountain  chain.  Of  these  the 
Organ,  Hueco  or  Waco,  and  Guadalupe  mountains  extend  from  the  north- 
west extremity  of  Texas,  where  they  terminate,  in  a  north  direction  into 
New  Mexico.  According  to  Bartlett,  the  first  are  about  3,000  feet  above 
the  Rio  Grande,  and  the  last  the  same  altitude  above  the  plain. 

Geology. — That  part  of  Texas  which  lies  within  about  200  miles  of 
the  coast,  and  perhaps  further  inland,  appears,  says  Mr.  Bollacrt,  in  a 
paper  read  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  to  have  been  gradually 
uplifted  from  the  bed  of  an  ancient  sea,  into  which  the  great  rivers  of 
that  period  poured  their  waters,  charged  with  the  detritus  of  the  secondary 
rocks.  This  detritus  was  gradually  deposited  in  sedimentary  beds  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sea,  and  these  deltas  at  length  uniting,  form  the  superficial 
accumulations  of  the  level  and  undulating  lands.  This  appears  to  be 
confirmed  by  the  fact  that  the  soils  in  the  vicinity  of  the  great  rivers  are 
distinguished  by  the  peculiar  ingredients  brought  down  by  the  freshets 
of  the  present  day.  A  vast  belt  of  gypsum,  (sometimes  100  miles  in 
width,)  extending  from  the  Arkansas  to  the  Rio  Grande,  passes  across  the 
north-west  portion  of  the  State.  In  the  mountains  and  hills  of  the  north- 
west^ we  have  primitive  formations  of  granites,  porphyries,  etc.  Middle 
and  southern  Texas  seem  to  be  composed  of  rich  surface  soils,  overlaid  iu 
the  tertiary  strata  with  its  peculiar  fossils;  then  follow  the  oolitic  systems, 
sandstone,  and  perhaps  the  new  red  sandstone.  A  series  of  measure- 
ments give  the  following  elevations: — Galveston,  10  feet ;  Houston,  60 
feet;  San  Felipe  de  Austin,  200  feet;  Columbus,  250  feet;  Gonzales,  270 
feet ;  San  Antonia  de  Bejar,  350  feet ;  head-waters  of  the  San  Antonio, 
400  feet;  Rio  Frio,  450  to  500  feet;  Cibolo  river  and  head-waters  of  the 
Leona  river,  550  feet;  1st  Sabinas,  700  feet;  2d  Sabinas,  800  feet; 
Guadalupe  river,  1,000  feet;  Llano  Estacado,  2,450  feet;  and  Guada- 
lupe mountains,  3,000  feet. 

Minerals. — Texas  abounds  in  minerals.  Lying  as  she  docs  in  close 
proximity  to  the  gold  and  silver  regions  of  Mexico  and  New  Mexico,  it  is 
probable  that  she  may  develop  in  future  rich  supplies  of  the  precious 
metals.  This,  however,  is  not  left  entirely  to  conjecture,  as  silver  mined 
are  known  to  have  been  worked  at  San  Saba,  and  recent  discoveries  of 


504  TEXAS. 

the  same  metal  have  been  made  upon  the  Bklais  river.  In  the  spring 
of  185!),  the  country  was  agitated  by  the  report  of  the  discovery  of  gold 
mines  west  of  the  Colorado  river,  between  it  and  the  San  Saba  mountains, 
and  north  of  the  Lhmo  river,  but  these  reports  have  not  been  confirmed, 
at  least  as  to  its  existence  in  any  considerable  quantities.  According  to 
Haldenian's  revised  edition  of  Taylor's  work  on  the  Coal  Regions  of  the 
United  Suites,  coal  exists  on  the  Trinity  river,  200  miles  above  Galveston; 
in  the  vicinity  of  Nagadoches,  on  the  Brazos  (in  abundance)  ;  near  the 
city  of  Austin,  and  on  the  Rio  Grande,  south-west  of  Bexar.  It  is  believed 
that  a  belt,  distant  about  200  miles  from  the  coast,  extending  south-west 
from  Trinity  river  to  the  Rio  Grande,  contains  this  valuable  mineral  in 
various  places.  Iron  is  found  in  many  parts  of  the  State ;  there  are  also 
salt  lakes  and  salt  springs,  copper,  copperas,  alum,  lime,  agates,  chalcedony, 
jasper,  and  a  white  and  red  sandstone.  A  pitch  lake,  20  miles  from 
Beaumont,  deposits  of  nitre  and  sulphur,  and  fire  clay,  are  among  the  mi- 
nerals. "Formations  of  secondary  limestone,  with  others  of  carbonifer- 
ous sandstones,  shales,  argillaceous  iron  ore,  and  bituminous  coal  beds, 
are  said  to  occupy  a  large  portion  of  the  interior  of  Texas.  Westward 
of  these  occur  the  inferior  and  silurian  strata,  trilobite  limestone,  and 
transition  slates.  Beyond  all  the  balsatic  and  primary  rocks  of  the  Rocky 
mountains  arise  ;  while  north  is  the  great  salt  lake  of  the  Brazos,  and  a  vast 
red  saliferous  region.  An  immense  bed  of  gypsum,  the  largest  known  in 
North  America,  reaching  from  the  Arkansas  to  the  Rio  Grande  river, 
traverses  the  north-west  portion  of  Texas.  Mineral  springs  abound;  among 
the  most  important  are  the  Salinilla  Springs,  (both  white  and  salt  sulphur,) 
near  the  Trinity  river  in  Walker  county,  a  spring  similar  to  AVhite  Sul- 
phur in  Virginia,  near  the  Bidais  river ;  a  blue  sulphur  spring,  also  in 
Walker  county ;  a  mineral  spring  near  the  Chilo,  30  miles  from  Bexar, 
formerly  of  great  repute  among  the  Mexicans  for  its  medical  properties; 
and  a  white  sulphur  spring  near  Carolina,  in  Montgomery  county. 

Rivers,  Bays,  Sounds. — The  coast  of  Texas  is  lined  with  a  chain 
of  low  islands,  which  form  a  series  of  bays,  sounds,  and  lagoons;  the 
most  important  of  which  are  Galveston,  Matagorda,  Espiritu  Santo, 
Aransas,  and  Corpus  Christi  bays,  and  Laguna  del  Madre.  Commencing 
at  Galveston  bay  in  the  north-east,  they  lie  along  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  in  the 
order  in  which  they  are  named.  Galveston  bay,  the  largest  of  these, 
extends  about  35  miles  inland  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  in  a  direction 
nearly  north.  Matagorda  bay,  60  miles  long  by  G  to  10  wide,  and  Laguna 
del  Madre,  90  miles  long  by  8  to  6  wide,  are  sounds  rather  than  bays, 
and  run  nearly  parallel  with  the  shore.  The  inlets  to  these  are  much 
obstructed  by  bars ;  Galveston  inlet,  the  best,  is  said  to  have  but  12  feet 
water,  the  entrance  of  Matagorda  bay  11  feet,  and  that  of  San  Luis  but 
10  feet.  Aransas  bay  extends  in  a  north-east  and  south-west  direction 
about 25  miles,  by  about  12  miles  in  width:  Corpus  Christi  bay,  40  miles 
from  norta  to  south,  by  20  miles  from  east  to  west;  and  Espiritu  Santo  is 
20  miles  long  by  10  wide ;  Copano  bay,  opening  into  Aransas,  is  20  miles 
long  by  3  wide.  A  writter  in  "Be  Bow's  Resources  in  the  South  and 
West,"  however,  says — "  Steamships  of  1,200  to  1,500  tons,  and  sail  vessel 
of  1,000  tons,  can  enter  the  port  of  Galveston."    Texas  is  crossed  by  several 


TEXAS.  505 

long  rivers,  generally  rising  in  the  table-lands  of  the  west  and  north-west, 
and  pursuing  a  south-east  course,  discharge  their  waters  into  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  Commencing  with  the  Rio  Grande,  the  largest  river  in  Texas, 
1,800  miles  long,  and  which  forms  its  south-west  boundary,  and  proceeding 
along  the  coast,  we  have  the  Nueces,  San  Antonio,  Guadalupe,  Colorado, 
Brazos,  Trinitv,  Neches,  and  Sabine,  whose  lengths  in  the  order  named  are 
about  300,  250,  275,  800,  500,  400,  300,  and  350  miles,  as  estimated  by 
measurements  on  the  map.  The  Eed  river  rises  in  the  north-west  of  tlie 
State,  and  forms  a  large  part  of  the  north  boundary  line.  The  Canadian, 
a  branch  of  the  Arkansas,  crosses  the  north-projection  of  the  State.  All 
of  these  are  navigable  to  a  greater  or  less  extent,  (depending  on  the  wetness 
or  dryness  of  the  season,  and  on  local  obstructions,)  the  Sabine  for  about 
150  miles ;  the  Trinity,  to  Porter's  Bluffs,  latitude  32°  20' ;  the  San  Ja- 
cinto, 50  miles;  the  Brazos,  to  Sullivan's  Shoals,  near  latitude  31°  north; 
the  Nueces,  100  miles ;  the  Eio  Grande,  400  miles ;  and  the  Eed  river,  to 
Preston,  latitude  34°  north,  and  longitude  96°  20'  west,  (during  high  wa- 
ter.) The  Colorado  is  obstructed  by  a  raft  10  miles  from  its  mouth  ;  but 
when  this  is  removed,  which  it  doubtless  will  be  ere  long,  it  will  give  a 
navigation  of  several  hundred  miles.  There  are  a  number  of  small  rivers 
or  tributaries  navigable  to  some  extent,  and  besides  their  value  as  channels 
of  commerce,  they  afford  in  many  instances  excellent  sites  for  mill  seats. 
There  are  no  known  lakes  of  importance  in  Texas.  Sabine  lake,  an  ex- 
pansion of  the  river  of  that  uame,  near  its  mouth,  20  miles  long,  is  on  the 
boundary  of  Texas  and  Louisiana.  There  is  a  salt  lake  near  the  Eio 
Grande,  from  which  large  quantities  of  salt  are  annually  taken. 

Objects  op  Interest  to  Tourists. — Among  the  most  remarkable 
known  natural  wonders  of  Texas,  is  the  Pass  of  the  Guadalupe  mount- 
ains, in  the  north-west  of  the  State,  thus  described  by  Mr.  Bartlett :  "  We 
followed  the  intricacies  of  the  pass  for  6  hours,  winding  and  turning  in 
every  direction,  now  plunging  into  some  deep  abyss,  now  rising  upon 
some  little  castellated  spur,  and  again  passing  along  the  brink  of  a  deep 
gorge,  whose  bottom,  filled  with  trees,  is  concealed  from  our  view.  In 
one  place  the  road  runs  along  a  rocky  shelf  not  wide  enough  for  two 
wagons  to  pass,  and  the  next,  passes  down  through  an  immense  gorge, 
walled  in  by  regularly  terraced  mountains  of  limestone." 

The  Castle  Mountain  pass  is  scarcely  less  wild  and  interesting.  The 
Waco  Mountain  pass,  on  the  borders  of  Texas  and  New  Mexico,  is  on 
the  same  grand  scale.  Deep  barancas,  canons  or  gullies,  either  worn  by 
water  or  rent  asunder  by  earthquakes,  yawn  to  a  depth  of  many  hundred 
feet,  in  its  high  table-lands.  Captain  Marcy  represents  the  Eed  river, 
near  its  source,  as  cutting  its  way  through  the  solid  rock  in  the  north  of 
Texas,  in  a  canon  or  gorge  of  800  feet  in  depth.  A  fall  of  120  feet  in 
a  perpendicular  pitch  is  reported  to  have  been  recently  discovered  in  one 
of  the  branches  of  the  Colorado  river,  which  falls  in  one  unbroken 
sheet  of  100  feet  in  width.  Very  large  bones,  (apparently  of  the  masto- 
don,) immense  horns,  vertebroD,  teeth,  silicified  wood,  oysters,  mussels, 
ammonites,  (nearly  2  feet  in  diameter,)  fish,  encrinites,  trilobitcs,  and 
other  fossils  are  found  near  San  Felipe  de  Austin,  Columbus,  Bastrop, 
Webber's  prairie,  Austin,  Peach  creek,  Brazoria,  and  many  other  places, 


506  TEXAS. 

but  not  all  in  any  one  locality.  Silicified  trocrf  are  particularly  numerous 
in  Houston  county,  mostly  nearly  perpendicular,  inclining  to  the  north, 
but  some  horizontal. 

Climate. — Texas  seems  to  partake  of  a  climate  free  from  the  extremes 
of  both  the  torrid  and  temperate  zones,  producing  iu  the  north  many  of  tho 
products  of  the  temperate,  and  iu  the  south  many  of  those  of  the  torrid 
zone.  While  it  shares  the  genial  climate  of  Louisiana,  it  is  free  from  its 
unhealthy  swamp  exhalations.  The  heats  of  summer  are  much  miti- 
gated by  the  refreshing  breezes  from  the  Gulf,  which  blow  with  great 
steadiness  during  that  season.  In  November,  however,  the  north  winds  set 
in  and  sweep  down  the  plains,  with  but  little  variation,  during  the  months 
of  December  and  January.  These  winds  have  doubtless  a  purifying 
effect  on  the  atmosphere,  by  sweeping  off  the  exhalations  of  the  river- 
bottoms  and  the  newly-broken  soil;  the  settler  on  the  prairies  of  the 
interior  is  thus  freed  from  the  miasma  that  exerts  usually  so  pestilential 
an  influence  on  the  "  clearings"  of  new  countries  and  in  marshy  districts. 
Ice  is  seldom  seen  in  the  south  part;  and  during  the  summer  months  the 
thermometer  averages  about  80°,  and  in  winter  from  60°  to  75°. 

Soil  and  Productions. — The  soil  is  equally  favorable  with  the  cli- 
mate ;  for  while  every  variety  is  found,  from  the  cheerless  desert  to  the 
exuberantly  fertile  river-bottoms,  the  general  character  is  that  of  great 
fertility.  The  mesquit  grass  in  west  Texas  yields  a  fine  soft  sward, 
which  is  green  even  in  winter,  and  affords,  beyond  all  comparison,  the 
best  natural  pasture  in  the  world.  Cotton,  the  great  staple,  grows  well 
in  almost  every  part  of  the  State,  and  that  grown  near  the  gulf  is  con- 
sidered equal  to  the  celebrated  sea-island.  Indian  corn,  the  other  great 
staple,  is  also  readily  raised  in  almost  every  part.  Two  crops  a  year  are 
planted,  one  in  February,  and  the  other  about  the  middle  of  June,  yield- 
ing often  75  bushels  to  the  acre  of  shelled  corn.  In  the  undulating 
country,  wheat,  rye,  oats,  buckwheat,  and  the  other  small  grains  flourish. 
The  level  country  is  well  adapted  to  the  production  of  sugar,  though  it 
is  not  yet  extensively  cultivated.  Tobacco,  of  a  quality  claimed  to  be 
equal  to  that  of  Cuba,  flourishes  with  little  care,  and  is  doubtless  des- 
tined to  form  one  of  the  staples  of  Texas.  Indigo,  of  a  superior  kind, 
is  indigenous  to  the  State.  Rice  can  be  cultivated  to  any  extent,  and  the 
soil  is  well  adapted  to  flax  and  homp.  According  to  the  census  of  1850, 
there  were  in  Texas  12,198  farms,  occupying  643,976  acres  of  improved 
land,  and  producing  41,729  bushels  of  wheat;  3,108  of  rye  ;  199,017  of 
oats;  6,028,876  of  Indian  corn;  94,645  of  Irish,  and  1,332,158  of  sweet 
potatoes  ;  4,776  of  barley,  and  179.350  of  peas  and  beans  ;  8,354  tons 
of  hay ;  2,344,900  pounds  of  butter ;  95,299  of  cheese  ;  380,825  of 
beeswax  and  honey;  7,351,000  pounds  of  cane-sugar;  23,228,800  of 
cotton;  88,203  of  rice;  66,897  of  tobacco  ;  131,917  of  wool;  and  441,918 
gallons  of  molasses.  Live  stock,  valued  at  $10,412,927;  slaughtered 
animals  at  §1, 116, 137  ;  market  products  at  $12,354  ;  and  orchard  products 
at  §12,505 ;  besides  some  buckwheat,  wine,  grass-seeds,  hops,  flax,  and 
silk.  The  grape,  mulberry,  and  the  delicious  vanilla  are  indigenous  and 
abundant.  The  nopal,  (famous  for  the  production  of  the  cochineal  in- 
sect,) the  mesquit-tree,  (a  species  of  locust,  very  valuable  for  fencing  and 


TEXAS.  S07 

building,)  and  the  tea-tree,  (a  good  substitute  for  the  Chinese  shrub,)  are 
all  native  to  Texas.  The  cacti  and  agave  are  abundant  west  of  the  Nueces. 
Cayenne  pepper  is  grown  in  vast  quantities.  The  fruits  are  no  less 
abundant  and  various  than  its  other  products  :  here  we  have  a  peach 
superior  to  that  of  the  north,  the  nectarine,  the  quince,  the  fig,  the  plum, 
the  crab-apple,  and  a  great  variety  of  berries.  Oranges,  lemons,  limes, 
and  melons  grow  well,  as  do  all  the  garden  vegetables.  Hickory,  walnut, 
and  pecan-nuts  are  plentiful.  Shrubs  and  flowers  are  in  profusion,  and 
of  great  beauty  and  variety,  and  many  of  our  north  exotics  and  hothouse 
plants  are  indigenous  to  Texas ;  such,  for  example,  as  the  gaudy  dahlia. 
Here  bloom  asters  of  every  variety,  geraniums,  lilies,  trumpet-flowers, 
cardinal-flowers,  wax-plants,  mimosas,  etc.  In  short,  a  Texas  prairie  in 
spring  is  the  very  paradise  of  a  botanist,  or  indeed  of  any  lover  of  the 
beauties  of  nature. 

The  forest-trees  are  live-oak  and  other  varieties  of  that  noble  tree, 
cedar,  pine,  palmetto,  ash,  walnut,  hickory,  pecan,  mulberry,  cypress, 
elm,  and  sycamore.  The  east  portion  and  the  river-bottoms  are  the  most 
densely  timbered.  "  Cross  Timbers  "  is  a  wooded  section,  stretching, 
says  Marcy,  from  the  Arkansas  river  in  a  south-west  direction  through 
some  400  miles,  with  a  width  varying  from  5  to  30  miles.  The  limits  of 
this  forest  are  very  abrupt,  and  form,  as  it  were,  a  wall  against  the  further 
progress  of  the  arid  prairies.  The  trees  in  this  consist  principally  of 
post-oak  and  black-jack,  standing  at  such  distances  that  wagons  can  pass 
between  them  in  any  direction. 

Animals. — Texas  abounds  in  wild  animals  of  difierent  kinds.  The 
bufialo  still  roams  in  the  north-west  of  the  State,  and  the  wild  horse  or 
mustang  feeds  in  vast  herds  on  its  undulating  prairies.  Here,  too,  are  deer, 
pumas,  jaguars,  ocelots,  and  wild  cats,  black  bears,  wolves,  foxes,  some 
pecaries,  racoons,  opossums,  rabbits,  hares,  and  abundance  of  squirrels. 
The  prairie-dog,  a  species  of  marmot,  burrows  in  the  ground,  and  their 
communities  extend  for  many  miles.  Mr.  Bartlett  mentions  journeying 
for  three  days  without  for  once  being  out  of  sight  of  them.  Wild  cattle 
are  in  abundance.  Among  the  mountains  of  the  west  are  found  the 
graceful  antelope,  the  mountain  goat,  and  the  moose,  (the  largest  of  the 
deer  kind.)  Of  the  feathered  tribes  there  are  many  varieties  to  tempt 
the  cupidity  of  the  hunter,  such  as  prairie  hens,  wild  geese,  wild  turkeys, 
brant,  teal,  cavansback  and  common  duck,  pheasants,  quails,  grouse, 
partridges,  woodcock,  pigeons,  turtle-doves,  snipes,  plovers,  and  rice-birds. 
Of  birds  of  prey  are  the  baldlieaded  and  Mexican  eagles,  vultures,  hawks, 
and  owls.  Of  waterfowl,  besides  those  mentioned  above,  are  cranes, 
swans,  pelicans,  king-fishers,  and  water-turkeys.  Of  small  birds,  crows, 
blackbirds,  starlings,  bluejays,  woodpeckers,  redbirds,  martens,  swallows, 
and  wrens.  Of  the  birds  noted  for  beauty  of  plumage  are  the  paroquet, 
the  oriole,  the  whippoorwill,  the  cardinal,  and  the  sweet-toned  mocking 
bird.  Of  fish  and  reptiles  there  are  also  a  great  variety,  and  of  excellent 
quality;  among  the  former  are  the  red-fish,  (a  delicious  fish,  weighing 
50  pounds,)  the  yellow,  white,  and  blue  codfish,  sheepshead.  mullet, 
flounders,  perch,  pike,  suckers,  and  trout ;  and  of  the  latter,  alligators, 
gareels,  rattle,  water,  moccasin,  coachwhip,  copperhead,  chicken,  and  garter 


508  TEXAS. 

enakcs,  and  horned  frof;s  and  lizards.  Of  shell-fish  a,rc  crabs,  oysters, 
clams,  mussels,  crayfish,  shrimps,  and  hard  and  soft  shelled  turtles. 
Among  the  insects  arc  the  gadfly  gnat,  the  canthavides  or  Spanish  fly, 
the  honey-bee,  (in  a  wild  State,)  centipedes,  and  a  large  poisonous  spider 
called  the  tarantula. 

Manufactures. — Texas,  as  a  new  State,  has  but  few  manufactures ; 
nor  till  lier  rich  and  beautiful  prairies  and  fertile  bottoms  are  occupied, 
will  capitalists  be  likely  to  turn  their  attention  much  to  this  branch  of 
industry.  According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were  309  establish- 
ments engaged  in  mining,  manufactures,  and  the  mechanic  arts,  produc- 
ing each  §500  and  upward  annually,  employing  S539,290  capital,  and 
1,0-42  male  and  24  female  hands,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $394,642, 
and  yielding  products  valued  at  SI, 165, 538  The  homemade  manufac- 
tures produced  the  same  year  were  valued  at  8266,984.  There  were  in 
1850,  no  cotton  factories,  and  but  one  woollen  establishment,  employing 
only  §8,000  capital,  and  4  male  and  4  female  hands,  and  producing 
$15,000  worth  of  cloth  and  yarn  ;  and  2  furnaces,  employing  $16,000 
capital,  and  35  male  hands,  and  producing  $55,000  worth  of  castings, 
pig-iron,  etc. 

Internal  Improvements. — In  so  recently  settled  a  State,  little  ad- 
vance can  be  expected  to  have  been  made  in  this  respect,  beyond  opening 
ordinary  roads ;  however,  Texas,  young  as  she  is,  has  begun  to  turn  her 
attention  in  that  direction,  and  in  January,  1855,  72  miles  of  railroad, 
to  connect  Harrisburg  with  Brazos,  were  in  course  of  construction. 
Railroads  are  in  contemplation  from  Galveston  to  Henderson,  from  Gal- 
veston to  Austin,  from  San  Antonio  to  Salina,  from  Henderson  to  Vicks- 
burg,  in  Mississippi,  from  Houston  to  Austin,  and  from  Henderson  to 
Fulton. 

Commerce. — This  State  has  facilities  for  both  internal  and  foreign 
commerce.  Her  most  fertile  districts  are  crossed  by  large  rivers  more  or 
less  navigable  by  steamboats  and  by  smaller  boats,-  while  her  numerous 
bays  form  harbors  for  transacting  her  foreign  commerce.  It  is  true  her 
rivers  are  obstructed  by  sandbars  and  rafts  in  some  instances,  but  these 
admit  of  removal.  Although  bars  obstruct  the  inlets  of  her  harbors, 
vessels,  of  from  1,000  to  1,500  tons  may  enter  the  port  of  Galveston. 
The  principal  article  of  export  from  this  State  is  cotton.  The  value  of 
exports  to  foreign  countries  for  the  fiscal  year  1854,  was  $1,314,449  ; 
of  imports,  $281,423;  tonnage  entered,  5,249;  cleared,  9,708;  and  owned 
in  the  State,  9,698,  of  which  2,815  was  steam  tonnage;  vessels  built,  1. 
In  the  year  ending  August  31,  1583,  there  had  been  brought  to  the 
shipping  ports  of  the  State,  85,790  bales  of  cotton,  of  which  16,346  were 
expnrted  to  European  ports;  and  in  1854,  110,325  bales,  of  which 
18,467  was  exported  to  foreign  ports.  Trains  frequently  leave  San  An- 
tonio for  Mexico,  loaded  with  merchandise  suitable  for  the  demands  of 
Chihuahua,  Parras,  and  other  north  Mexican  cities. 

Education. — According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were  in  Texas 
2  colleges,  with  165  students,  and  $1,000  income;  349  public  schools, 
with  7,946  pupils,  and  $44,008  income;  and  97  academies  and  other 
schools,  with  3,389  pupils  and  $39,389  income.      Attending  school  as 


TEXAS.  509 

returned  by  families,  18,389.      Of  the  free   adult  population,  10,583 
could  not  read  and  write,  of  -whom  2,488  were  of  foreign  birth. 

Religious  Denominations. — Of  328  churches  in  Texas,  in  1850, 
the  Baptists  owned  70,  the  Christians  5,  Episcopalians  5,  Free  Church  7, 
Methodists  173,  Presbyterians  47,  Roman  Catholics  13,  Union  Church 
2,  and  minor  seels,  6 — giving  one  church  to  every  649  persons.  Value 
of  church  property,  $206,930. 

Public  Institutions. — The  State  penitentiary  is  located  at  Hunts- 
ville.  Texas  had  in  1850,  3  public  libraries  with  2,100  volumes;  8 
school  and  Sunday-school  libraries,  with  2,030  volumes;  and  1  college 
library  with  100  volumes. 

Periodicals. — According  to  the  census,  there  were  published  in  1850, 
in  this  State,  5  tri-weekly  and  29  weekly  newspapers,  with  an  aggregate 
annual  circulation  of  1,296,924  copies. 

Population. — Texas  had,  according  to  the  late  census,  212,592 
inhabitants  in  1850,  of  whom  84,869  were  white  males;  69,165 
females;  211  free  colored  males;  186  females;  and  28,700  male, 
and  29,461  female  slaves.  This  population  was  divided  into  28,377 
families,  occupying  27,988  dwellings;  representative  population,  189,327 
Population  to  the  square  mile,  89.  There  were  3,096  deaths,  or 
more  than  14  in  every  1,000  persons,  in  the  year  ending  June 
1,  1850.  In  the  same  period,  only  7  paupers  received  aid  from  the  pub- 
lic funds.  Of  the  free  population,  43,281  were  born  in  the  State;  92,657 
in  other  States;  1,002  in  England;  1,403  in  Ireland;  278  in  Scotland 
and  Wales;  137  in  British  America;  8,191  in  Germany;  647  in  France; 
5,117  in  other  countries;  and  604  whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown 
— making  more  than  11  per  cent,  of  the  free  population  of  foreign  birth. 
Of  the  entire  population,  59  were  deaf  and  dumb,  of  whom  10  were 
slaves;  73  blind,  of  whom  1  was  free  colored,  and  11  were  slaves;  37 
were  insane,  of  whom  none  were  slaves;  and  104  idiotic,  of  whom  11 
were  slaves.  Of  the  entire  population,  4  were  engaged  in  mining;  31,299 
in  agricultural  operations;  4,785  in  manufactures  and  mechanics;  1,737  in 
commerce,  trade,  and  dealing;  198  in  navigating  the  ocean ;  115  in  internal 
navigation;  and  3,246  in  the  learned  professions  and  higher  arts.  The 
influx  of  population  into  Texas,  both  from  other  States  and  from  foreign 
countries,  is  very  great. 

Counties. — Texas  is  divided  into  eighty-eight  counties:  Anderson, 
Angelina,  Austin,  Bastrop,  Bell,  Bexar,  Bowie,  Brazoria,  Brazos,  Burle- 
son, Burnet,  Caldwell,  Calhoun,  (jameron,  Cass,  Cherokee,  Colin,  Colorado, 
Comal,  Cook,  Dallas,  Denton,  De  Witt,  El  Paso,  Falls,  Fannin,  Fayette, 
Fort  Bend,  Galveston,  Guadalupe,  Gillepsie,  Goliad,  Gonzales,  Grayson, 
Grimes,  Harris,  Harrison,  Hays,  Henderson,  Hill,  Hopkins,  Houston, 
Hunt,  Jackson,  Jasper,  Jefferson,  Kaufman,  Lamar,  Lavacca,  Leon,  Li- 
berty, Limestone,  Madison,  Matagorda,  McLennan,  Medina,  Milam,  Mont- 
gomery, Nacogdoches,  Navarro,  Newton,  Nueces,  Orange,  Panola,  Polk, 
Red  River,  Refugio,  Robertson,  Rusk,  Sabine,  San  Augustin,  San  Patricio, 
Shelby,  Smith,  Starr,  Titus,  Travis,  Tyler,  Upshur,  Uvalde,  Vanzandt, 
Victoria,  Walker,  Washington,  Webb,  Wharton,  Williamson,  and  Wood. 
Capital,  Austin. 


510  TEXAS. 

Cities  and  Toavns. — Texas  has  no  very  large  towns;  the  principal 
arc  Galveston,  the  commercial  depot  of  the  State,  population  in  1850, 
4,177,  (7,000  in  1853;)  Houston,  2,396 ;  San  Antonio,  3,488,(6,000 
in  1853;)  Marshall,  1,189;  Brownsville,  4,500  in  1853;  and  New 
Braunfcls,  1,298. 

Government. — The  executive  power  of  Texas  is  intrusted  to  a  governor 
and  lieutenant-governor,  elected  by  the  people,  each  for  two  years,  the 
former  receiving  $2,000  per  annum  salary,  and  the  latter,  who  is  ex  officio 
president  of  the  Senate,  §5  per  day  during  the  session  of  the  legislature. 
The  latter  body  is  constituted,  as  usual  in  the  United  States,  of  a  Senate, 
composed  of  21  members  elected  for  4,  and  a  House  of  Representatives, 
of  6ii  members  elected  for  2  years — both  chosen  by  popular  vote.  The 
sessions  of  the  legislature  are  biennial,  and  meet  in  December.  Every 
male  citizen  of  the  United  States  (untaxed  Indians  and  negroes  excepted) 
who  is  over  21  years  of  age,  and  shall  have  resided  in  the  State  one  year 
next  pi-eceding  an  election,  or  in  the  county,  town,  or  district  in  which 
he  offers  to  vote,  shall  be  deemed  a  qualified  elector,  except  United 
States  soldiers,  marines,  and  seamen.  The  judiciary  consists — 1,  of  a 
supreme  court,  composed  of  a  chief  and  2  associate  judges  ;  and  2,  of 
14  district  courts,  held  twice  a  year  in  each  county.  There  is 
also  a  county  court  in  each  county.  All  the  judges  of  Texas  are  elected 
by  the  people  for  6  years,  but  the  governor  can,  on  address  from 
two-thirds  of  each  house,  remove  the  judges  of  both  courts.  The 
judges  of  the  supreme  court  receive  $2,000,  and  the  district  judges 
each  ^1,750  per  annum.  The  State  debt  of  Texas,  in  March,  1855, 
was  §11,055,694;  to  defray  par^  of  which.  Congress  appropriated 
§7,750,000  as  an  indemnity  for  certain  territory  relinquished  by  Texas 
to  New  Mexico  on  the  formation  Of  the  latter  territory,  and  also  for 
Indian  depredations.  Ordinary  expenditures,  exclusive  of  debt  and 
schools,  8100,000.  Taxable  property  in  1853,  §99,155,114.  In  No- 
vember, 1851,  Texas  had  but  one  bank,  capital,  §322,000;  circulation, 
§300,000  ;  coin,  §100,000. 

History. — The  present  State  Of  Texas  formed,  previous  to  the  revo- 
lution of  1836,  the  whole  of  the  Mexican  province  of  Texas,  together 
with  portions  of  the  States  of  Tamaulipas,  Coahuila,  Chihuahua,  and 
New  Mexico.  In  consequence  of  the  inducements  held  out  to  settlers, 
an  extensive  emigration  to  this  region  from  the  United  States  commenced 
in  1821,  which  had  swelled  to  sufficient  amount  in  1832  to  induce  the 
inhabitants  to  demand  admission  as  an  independent  member  of  the  Mex- 
ican confederacy;  which  being  refused,  resulted  in  a  declaration  of  in- 
dependence, that,  after  various  contests  in  arms,  was  completely  achieved 
by  the  defeat  and  capture  of  the  Mexican  president,  Santa  Anna,  at  San 
Jacinto,  in  1836.  Up  to  1845,  Texas  remained  an  independent  republic, 
modeled  after  the  government  of  the  United  States.  In  1846  it  was 
admitted  a  member  of  the  North  American  confederacy,  reserving  the 
right  to  be  divided  into  five  States,  with  the  institution  of  negro  slavery. 
Disputes  arising  with  Mexico  as  to  the  boundary,  (Mexico  claiming  to 
the  Nueces,  and  the  United  States  to  the  Kio  Grande  del  Norte,)  war 
ensued,  in  which  General  Taylor  gained  two  battles  within  the  limits  of 


TEXAS.  511 

the  present  State  of  Texas.  The  treaty  with  Mexico,  at  the  close  of  this 
war,  assigned  to  Texas  the  Rio  Grande  as  its  south-west  boundary.  By 
the  Compromise  Act  of  1850,  the  boundaries  of  Texas  were  somewhat 
modified,  she  conceding  to  New  Mexico  a  portion  of  her  northern  terri- 
tory, in  consideration  of  ^10,000,000  to  be  paid  by  the  United  States 
government. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  west  and  north-west  portions  of  Texas  are  sub- 
ject to  frequent  inroads  from  the  Camanehes,  Apaches,  and  other  warlike 
tribes,  who  destroy  property,  murder,  or  carry  into  captivity,  their 
defenceless  victims,  and  drive  off  their  horses,  sbeep,  and  cattle. 

Galveston,  a  port  of  entry,  the  seat  of  justice  of  Galveston  county, 
and  the  most  populous  and  commercial  city  of  Texas,  is  situated  on  an 
island  at  the  mouth  of  a  bay  of  its  own  name,  about  450  miles  west 
by  south  of  New  Orleans,  and  230  miles  south-east  of  Austin  city. 
Latitude  29°  17'  north,  longitude  94°  50'  west,  The  island  of  Galves- 
ton, whicb  separates  the  bay  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  is  about  30  miles 
in  length  and  3  miles  in  breadth.  The  surface  is  nearly  level,  and  has  a 
mean  elevation  of  only  4  or  5  feet  above  the  water.  The  bay  extends 
northward  from  the  city  to  the  mouth  of  Trinity  river,  a  distance  of  35 
miles,  and  varies  in  breadth  from  12  to  18  miles.  The  harbor  of  Gal- 
veston, which  is  the  best  in  the  State,  has  12  or  14  feet  of  water  over  the 
bar  at  low  tide.  Galveston  is  one  of  the  most  flourishing  ports  on  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  carries  on  an  active  trade.  Its  shipping,  June  30, 
1852,  amounted  to  an  aggregate  of  1,489  tons  registered,  and  4,004  tons 
enrolled  and  licensed.  Of  the  latter,  3,646  tons  were  employed  in  the 
coast  trade,  and  1,808  tons  in  steam  navigation.  The  foreign  arrivals 
for  the  year  were  21,  (tons,  5,974,)  of  which  19,  (tons,  5,480)  were  by 
foreign  vessels.  The  clearances  for  foreign  ports  were  21, — (tons,  6,287,) 
of  which  1,461  were  in  American  bottoms.  Steamboats  make  regular 
passages  to  New  Orleans,  and  to  the  towns  in  the  interior  of  Texas. 
Three  or  four  newspapers  are  published  here.  The  city  contains  a 
fine  market-house,  a  town  hall,  about  8  churches,  and  several  large 
hotels.  The  private  houses  are  mostly  of  wood  and  painted  white, 
the  streets  are  wide,  straight,  and  rectangular,  and  bordered  by  numer- 
ous flower  gardens.  Railroads  are  projected  from  Galveston  to  Houston, 
and  to  Red  river.  First  settled  in  1837.  Population  in  1853,  estimated 
at  7,000. 


512  INDIAN  TERRITORY. 


INDIAN   TERRITOEY 


This  is  a  tract  of  country  set  apart  by  the  Government  of  the  Unitei 
States  as  a  permanent  home  for  the  aboriginal  tribes  removed  thither 
from  east  of  the  Mississippi  river,  as  well  as  those  indigenous  to  the 
territory.  It  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  the  Territory  of  Kansas,  south 
by  Texas,  (from  which  it  is  partly  separated  by  Red  river,)  east  by 
Arkansas,  and  west  by  Texas  and  New  Mexico.  Indian  territory  lies 
between  33°  30'  and  37°  north  latitude,  and  between  94°  30'  and  103° 
we.st  longitude,  being  about  450  miles  long  and  from  35  to  240  miles  in 
width,  including  an  area  of  perhaps  71,127  square  miles.  The  recently 
formed  Territory  of  Kansas,  and  a  portion  of  the  south  of  Nebraska,  were 
constituted  from  the  ten-itory  originally  included  within  the  so-called 
Indian  Territory. 

Face  of  the  Country. — There  is  a  general  inclination  of  the 
country  from  the  base  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  on  the  western  border  of 
Indian  Territory,  toward  the  Mississippi  river,  with  a  slight  inclination 
to  the  south-east.  A  vast,  barren  and  sandy  tract,  generally  known  as 
the  Great  American  Desert,  occupies  the  north-west  portion  of  the  ter- 
ritory. The  rest  of  the  territory  spreads  out,  for  the  most  part,  into 
undulating  plains  of  great  extent,  with  the  exception  of  the  Ozark  or 
Washita  mountains,  which  enter  the  east  portion  of  the  Indian  Territory 
from  Arkansas.  This  territory,  however,  has  been  too  imperfectly 
explored  to  enable  us  to  speak  with  great  precision  of  its  surface. 

Rivers. — Indian  Territory  is  drained  by  the  Arkansas  and  Red  rivers, 
with  their  tributaries;  these  all  have  their  sources  among  or  near  the 
Rocky  mountains,  and  flowing  in  an  east  or  south-east  direction,  across 
or  on  the  borders  of  the  territory,  discharge  their  waters  into  the 
Mississippi.  None  of  these  rivers  have  their  source  within  the  territory. 
The  Red  river  forms  part  of  the  south  boundary,  while  the  Arkansas 
passes  through  Indian  Territory  into  the  State  of  the  same  name.  The 
tributaries  of  the  Arkansas  are  the  Cimorron,  Neosha,  Verdigris,  and 
the  north  and  south  forks  of  the  Canadian;  those  of  the  Red  river  are 
the  Washita,  False  Washita,  and  little  Red  river;  all  having  nearly  an 
east  course,  except  the  Neosha,  which  runs  south.  These  rivers  have 
generally  broad  and  shallow  channels,  and  in  the  dry  season  are  little 
more  than  a  series  of  sandy  pools ;  in  the  winter  and  spring  only  are  they 
navigable  by  flat-boats  and  canoes,  or  for  steamboats  (if  at  all)  near  their 
months.  The  Arkansas  and  Red  rivers  are  both  navigable  for  steam- 
boats, but  to  what  distance  we  are  not  accurately  informed.  The 
Arkansas  has,   course  of  about  2,000  miles,  and  Red  river,  of    1,200  miles. 

Climate.—  ^f  the  climate  we  have  little  definite  information,  but  that 
of  the  east  poi  on  is  probably  similar  to  the  climates  of  Arkansas  and 
Missouri,  on  wL  -h  it  borders.  The  summers  are  long  and  extremely 
dry,  the  days  being  very  hot,  with  cool  nights. 


INDIAN  TERRITORY.  513 

Soil  and  Productions. — On  this  point  our  information  is  limited. 
The  east  portion,  occupied  by  the  partly -civilized  Indians,  is  represented 
as  fertile  prairie  land,  intersperced  "with  mountain  and  flat  hills,"  for 
an  extent  of  200  miles  westward  from  the  boundary  of  Arkansas.  On 
the  borders  of  the  streams  are  strips  of  woodland,  mostly  cotton-wood 
and  willows;  the  country  is,  however,  generally  destitute  of  timber.  Th 
Cross  Timbers,  thus  described  by  Captain  Marcy,  are  partly  in  this  terri 
tory: — "A  narrow  strip  of  woodland,  called  the  Cross  Timbers,  from  5 
to  30  miles  wide,  extending  from  the  Arkansas  river  some  500  miles  in  a 
south-west  direction  to  the  Brazos,  divides  the  arable  land  from  the  great 
prairies,  for  the  most  part  arid  and  sterile."  The  north-west  portion  of 
the  Territory  is  mostly  a  barren,  dreary  waste  "  of  bare  rocks,  gravel,  and 
sand,"  destitute  of  all  vegetation,  except,  perhaps,  a  few  stunted  shrubs, 
** yuccas,  cactuses,  grape-vines,  and  cucurbitaceous  plants."  The  water 
is  brackish,  and  the  surface  in  many  places  covered  with  saline  eflBores- 
cences.  The  eastern  prairies  are  well  adapted  to  grazing,  and  the  pro- 
ducts of  the  adjoining  States  flourish  there. 

Animals. — Vast  herds  of  buff"aloes  and  wild  horses  roam  over  ita 
prairies,  and  antelope,  deer,  prairie-dog,  and  some  other  animals  are 
found ;  wild  turkeys,  grouse,  etc.,  are  among  the  birds.  Upon  the  other 
points  generally  treated  of  in  our  articles  on  the  States  and  Territories, 
we  have  too  little  reliable  information  to  speak  in  a  work  meant  to 
be  one  of  facts,  and  not  of  conjectures.  Indian  Territory  forms  a  part 
of  the  great  Louisiana  tract  purchased  by  President  Jefferson  from 
France,  in  1803.  The  United  States  Government  have  military  stations 
at  Fort  Gibson,  on  the  Arkansas  ;  Fort  Towson,  on  the  Red ;  and  Fort 
Washita,  on  the  Washita.  The  Territory  of  Kansas,  with  a  portion  of 
Nebraska,  was  formed  from  what  was  formerly  called  Indian  Territory, 
in  1854. 

Population. — We  have  no  census  returns  of  the  population  of  this 
Territory,  but  the  east  portion  is  mainly  in  the  possession  of  tribes  removed 
thither  by  the  United  States  Government,  including,  among  others,  the 
Choctaws,  Chickasaws,  Creeks,  Cherokees,  Senecas,  Shawnees,  and  Semi- 
noles.  The  central  and  west  portions  are  roamed  over  by  the  Osages, 
Camanches,  Kioways,  Pawnees,  Arrapahoes,  and  some  other  nomad 
tribes.  Some  of  the  removed  tribes  have  made  considerable  advances  in 
agriculture  and  the  industrial  arts,  and  have  established  schools  and 
churches,  while  others  are  relapsing  into  indolence  and  vagrancy,  and, 
following  the  common  fate  of  the  savage  when  in  contact  with  the  civil- 
ized man,  are  fast  diminishing  under  the  influence  of  intemperance  and 
/icious  connections  with  abandoned  whites. 
33 


514  TERRITORY  OF  KANSAS. 


TERRITOEY  OF  KANSAS. 


Tnis  Territory  was  formed  by  act  of  Congress  passed  May,  1854,  and  lies 
between  37°  and  40°  north  latitude,  and  between  about  94°  30'  and 
107°  west  longitude.  About  100  miles  of  the  west  portion  lies  between 
38°  and  40°  north  latitude.  It  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Nebraska 
Territory,  east  by  the  States  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas,  south  by  Indian 
Territory  and  New  Mexico,  and  west  by  New  Mexico  and  Utah.  This 
Territory  is  about  630  miles  in  length,  from  east  to  west,  and  208  in  its 
widest,  and  139  in  its  west  part,  including  an  area  of  nearly  114,798 
square  miles.  The  llocky  mountains  separate  it  from  Utah,  and  the 
Missouri  river  forms  a  small  part  of  the  north-east  boundary. 

Face  of  the  Country. — (We  quote  Hale  and  his  authorities.)  The 
face  of  the  country  is  nearly  uniform  from  the  State  line  to  the  base  of 
the  mountains,  being  one  continued  succession  of  gently  undulating  ridges 
and  valleys,  the  general  inclination  of  the  ridges  is  north  and  south, 
but  they  are  thrown  into  various  other  directions  by  the  course  of  the 
streams  and  the  conformation  of  the  valleys.  The  first  district  varies 
in  width  from  80  to  200  miles.  The  second  district,  separated  from 
the  first  by  a  tortuous  belt  of  100  yards  in  width,  presents  to  the  eye 
a  surface  apparently  of  sand,  but  covered  with  grasses  and  rushes, 
especially  in  the  valleys  and  hollows,  where  grass  is  abundant  during  the 
whole  season.  This  district  extends  from  Sandy  creek  west  about  350 
miles.  The  third  district,  a  narrow,  irregular  belt,  is  a  formation  of  marl 
and  earthy  limestone,  continued  south  from  Nebraska.  In  this  district 
occur  those  peculiar  formations  called  "buttes,"  varying  in  width  from 
100  feet  to  several  hundred  yards,  with  flat  surfaces,  and  nearly  perpen- 
dicular sides,  apparently  formed  by  the  subsidence  of  the  surrounding 
land.  The  fourth  district  is  somewhat  similar  to  the  first,  at  the  base 
of  the  Black  hill,  where  it  has  been  enriched  for  ages  by  the  debris 
but  there  is  more  wood  upon  it.  The  east  portion  is  pastoral,  but 
the  west,  skirting  the  hills,  fertile,  finely  timbered,  and  watered,  abound- 
ing in  game,  wild  fruits,  and  flowers.  The  first  district,  occupying 
the  space  between  the  Black  hills  and  the  llocky  mountains,  pre- 
sents every  variety  of  hill  and  dale,  mountain  and  valley,  traversed  by 
rivulets,  and  adorned  with  lakes;  west  of  this  succeeds  a  sterile  expanse 
of  many  miles,  covered  with  waving  lines  of  sand,  and  surrounded  by 
peaks  of  bare  granite;  there  are,  however,  some  rich  valleys,  and  the  hol- 
low mumur  of  rivulets  may  be  heard  beneath  your  feet.  The  first  district 
has  a  limestone  basis,  and  the  great  coal-fields  of  Missouri  extend  30  or 
40  miles  into  it.  This  portion  is  unrivaled  in  fertility,  and  has  valuable 
forest-trees,  including  hickory,  ash,  walnut,  and  sugar-maple,  but  it  is  not 
quite  so  well  timbered  as  the  country  in  the  same  range  in  Missouri. 
The  valley  of  the  Kansas  is  here  from  20  to  40  miles  wide,  has  a  deep 
alluvium,  and  is  very  productive.     The  valley  of  the  Missouri  is  of  a 


TERRITORY  OF  KANSAS.  515 

Bimilar  character.  Between  the  Nebraska  and  Platte  rivers,  says  Pro- 
fessor James,  the  surface  of  the  country  presents  a  continued  succession 
of  small  rounded  hills,  becoming  larger  as  you  approach  the  rivers.  The 
soil  is  deep,  and  reposes  on  beds  of  argillaceous  sandstdne  and  secondary 
limestone.  The  second  district  is  underlaid  by  sandstone;  the  basis  of 
the  third  is  not  known,  nor  is  that  of  the  fourth  and  fifth.  Coal  is  be- 
lieved to  exist  plentifully  in  the  last  two,  as  well  as  an  abundant  supply 
of  water-power. 

Rivers. — The  rivers  following  the  declination  of  the  country  all  have 
an  east  or  south-east  course,  with  the  exception  of  some  of  the  smaller 
tributiiries.  The  Missouri  forms  the  north-east  boundary  through  nearly 
a  degree  of  latitude,  with  but  little  variation  to  the  west,  though  with 
many  windings.  The  Kansas,  the  largest  river,  whose  course  is  mostly 
within  the  Territory,  joins  the  Missouri  just  before  this  river  enters  the 
State  of  Missouri,  Including  its  main  branches,  the  Republican  and 
Smoky  Hill  forks,  it  has  a  course  of  from  800  to  1,000  miles.  The  lat- 
ter runs  nearly  through  the  middle  of  the  Territor}',  in  a  direction  a  little 
north  of  east.  The  Republican  fork  rises  in  the  north-west  of  Kansas, 
but  soon  passes  into  Nebraska,  which  it  traverses  for  from  200  to  300 
miles,  when  it  returns  to  Kansas,  and  joins  the  Smoky  Hill  fork  in  about 
latitude  39°  40'  west.  The  principal  tributaries  of  the  Kansas  below  the 
junction  are,  from  the  north,  the  Big  Blue  river,  rit<ing  in  Nebraska,  and 
by  far  the  largest,  Egoma-saha,  Soldier's  creek,  Santelle,  and  Stranger 
rivers,  and  from  the  south  Wacharasa.  The  chief  affluents  of  the  Saioky 
Hill  fork  are  the  Great  Saline  and  Solomon's  forks,  both  from  the  north. 
The  Osage  rises  near  97°  west  longitude,  south  of  the  Kansas,  and  passes 
east  into  Missouri.  The  Arkansas  rises  on  the  west  boundary,  and  has, 
with  the  exception  of  a  slight  bend  into  New  Mexico,  about  half  its  course 
in  this  Territory.  The  Neosho,  the  Verdigris,  and  the  Little  Arkansas  are 
its  principal  tributaries  from  Kansas,  all  in  the  south-east  portion.  The 
Little  Osage  and  Marmaton  have  their  sources  in  this  Territory.  The  Platte 
has  its  origin  in  the  north  of  Kansas,  and  runs  north  into  Nebraska. 
Steamboats  ascend  the  Kansas  to  Fort  Riley,  and  the  Arkansas,  at  high 
water,  100  miles  within  the  Territory.  The  rivers  in  general  have  broad, 
shallow  beds,  which,  in  dry  seasons,  form  little  more  than  a  series  of 
pools. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — Prominent  among  these  stands 
Pike's  peak,  near  the  west  border  of  Kansas,  which  soars  to  the  esti- 
mated Light  of  12,000  feet,  and  is  always  covered  with  snow.  The 
usual  variety,  that  characterizes  mountainous  regions,  of  gorge,  precipice, 
pass,  peak,  valley,  and  cascade,  is  here  exhibited.  The  South  park  is  a 
beautiful  natural  enclosure,  covered  with  grass  and  surrounded  by 
mountains,  at  a  great  elevation  above  the  sea.  The  buttes  have  been 
already  referred  to.  Even  in  the  east  and  middle  sections,  splendid 
panoramic  views  may  be  enjoyed  from  the  river-bluflfs,  which  rise  from 
50  to  500  feet. 

Minerals. — Reddish,  yellow,  and  blue  limestone,  with  a  tendency  to 
crystallization,  chert,  granite  feldspar,  red  sandstone,  (often  occurring  in 
boulders   of  several  tons  weight,)  and  coal  in  several   places,  are  the 


516  TERRITORY  OF  KANSAS. 

known  minerals,  besides,  pebbles  of  j^ranitc,  quartz,  and  porphyry,  with 
Bonic  large  blocks  of  porphyritic  granite. 

FdUEST  Trees. — For  200  miles  west  of  the  IMissouri,  several  varieties 
of  oak,  ash,  sycamore,  hickory,  buckeye,  walnut,  hackberry,  sugar-maple, 
and  sumac  are  found,  in  considerable  abundance  on  the  river-bottoms; 
while  in  the  second  district  timber  is  very  scarce,  except  a  few  cotton- 
wood  and  willow  trees  on  the  margin  of  the  streams.  In  the  mountain- 
ous regions  of  the  west,  forests  of  cedar,  pine,  poplar,  and  quaking-ash 
clothe  the  slopes  of  the  llocky  mountains,  while  the  river-bottoms  are 
covered  with  cottonwood,  willow,  bos-elder,  cherry,  current,  and  service 
bushes. 

Zoology. — The  buffalo,  elk,  deer,  antelope,  prairie  dogs,  and  squirrels 
are  among  the  cjuadrupeds;  and  of  the  feathered  tribes  there  are  the 
wild-turkey  and  goose,  prairie  hen,  partridge,  golden  oriole,  blue  jay,  red 
bird,  crow,  and  a  great  variety  of  the  smaller  birds.  Among  the  reptiles 
is  the  horned  frog. 

Forts  and  Stations. — First  among  these  are  the  forts,  viz  :  Fort 
P-iley,  near  the  confluence  of  the  Republican  and  Solomon's  forks  of  the 
Kansas;  Fort  Leavenworth,  on  the  IMissouri  river,  31  miles, above  the 
mouth  of  the  Kansas ;  Fort  Atkinson,  on  the  Arkansas,  near  the  100° 
of  west  longitude;  and  Bent's  Fort,  on  the  Arkansas,  between  103°  and 
104°  west  longitude.  The  stations  are  Walnut  Creek  post-office,  on  the 
Arkansas,  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek  of  that  name,  and  near  the  99°  of 
west  longitude ;  Big  Timbers,  a  favorite  council -ground  and  rendezvous, 
35  miles  below  Bent's  Fort;  Pueblo  de  San  Carlos,  on  the  Upper  Arkan- 
sas, in 'the  105°  of  west  longitude;  a  post-office  at  the  Delaware  city,  10 
miles  above  the  mouth  of  Kansas;  Elm  Grove,  a  noted  camping-ground, 
25  mileswestof  Westport,  Missouri;  and  Council  Grove,  a  famed  stopping 
place  on  the  Santa  Fe  trail,  in  about  082°  north  latitude,  and  96f  °  west  lon- 
gitude. There  are  besides  a  large  number  of  missionary  stations,  among 
which  are  the  Kickapoo,  4  miles  above  Fort  Leavenworth  ;  the  Iowa  and 
Sac,  near  the  north  boundary;  the  Shawnee,  (Methodist,)  Smiles  up  the 
Kansas;  and  2  miles  from  it  the  Baptist,  and  at  3  miles  the  Friend's  School. 
Sixty  miles  up  the  Kansas  is  the  Catholic  mission  among  the  Pottawa- 
tomies;  Meeker's  Ottowa  mission,  south  of  the  Kansas  river,  near  the 
Missouri  line ;  and  near  it  the  Baptist  Missionary  and  Labor  School ;  and 
the  Catholic  Osage  mission,  on  the  Neosho  river,  in  the  south-east  of  the 
Territory,  which  has  one  of  the  largest  missions  and  schools  in  Kansas, 
and  has  10  sub-missionary  stations  within  60  miles  of  it,  which  are 
visited  monthly  from  it. 

Population. — The  population  of  this  new  Territory  is  mostly  com- 
prised of  wholly  or  partly-domesticated  Indians,  (in  many  instances 
removed  thither  from  east  of  the  Mississippi,)  and  of  the  nomad  tribes 
of  the  interior  and  west  portion  of  Kansas.  Among  the  former  are  the 
Sacs  and  Foxes,  lowas,  Kickapoos,  Pottawatomies,  Delawares,  Shawnees, 
Kansas,  Chippewas,  Ottawas,  Peorias,  Kaskaskias,  Piankashaws,  Weas, 
Miamies,  Osages,  and  Cherokees  ;  the  latter  are  only  partly  in  this  Ter- 
ritory. Of  the  nomad  tribes,  the  principal  are  the  Camanches,  Kiowas, 
Cheyennes,  and  Arapahoes.      Large  portions  of  the  claims  of  the  domes- 


TERRITORY  OF  NEBRASKA.  517 

ticated  Indians  have  already  been  extinguished,  and  this  process  is  still 
going  on,  and  they  will  probably  soon  have  sold  all,  and  have  been 
removed,  or  absorbed  in  the  mass  of  the  citizens.  Intemperance,  im- 
providence, and  disease  are  powerfully  co-operating  with  the  greed  of  the 
white  man  in  sweeping  them  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  That  portion 
of  them — and  there  is  such  a  portion — who  are  receiving  the  education 
and  habits  of  civilization  from  the  missionaries,  will  probably  be  gradually 
incorporated  with  the  mass  of  citizens. 

Government  and  History. — The  government  of  Kansas  is  similar 
to  that  of  other  territories  of  the  United  States. — See  Minnesota. 

Kansas  formed  part  of  the  great  Louisiana  purchase  acquired  from 
France  in  1803,  and  subsequently  formed  part  of  the  Missouri,  Arkansas, 
and  Indian  Territories,  from  which  last  it  was,  (as  has  been  stated,}  in 
1854,  erected  into  a  separate  Territory,  after  a  stormy  debate  in  the 
national  Congress  as  to  whether  the  Missouri  Compromise  (an  act  passed 
in  1820,  forbidding  slavery  north  of  36°  30'  north  latitude)  should  be 
repealed.  The  repeal  was  carried  by  a  large  majority  in  the  Senate,  and 
a  decided  one  in  the  House ;  it  being  thus  left  to  a  majority  of  the  white 
inhabitants  of  the  Territory,  when  they  may  apply  for  admission  into  the 
confederacy  as  a  State,  to  allow  or  forbid  slavery  as  they  may  deem  proper. 


TERRITOHY   OF   NEBRASKA 


This  Territory  lies  between  40°  and  49°  north  lattitude,  and  between 
95°  and  113°  west  longitude. 

Length,  from  south  to  north,  625  miles  ;  greatest  length,  from  south- 
east to  north-west,  about  1,000  miles;  greatest  breadth,  from  cast  to 
west,  above  600  miles.  It  covers  an  area  of  about  335,882  square  miles, 
or  land  enougk  to  form  six  such  States  as  Illinois.  This  vast  tract  i 
bounded  on  the  north  by  15ritish  America,  east  by  Minnesota  Territory 
and  the  States  nf  Iowa  and  Missouri,  (from  which  it  is  separated  by  the 
Missouri  and  White  Earth  rivers,)  south  by  Kanzas  Territory,  and  west 
by  Utah,  Oregon,  and  Washington  Territories,  from  which  it  is  separated 
by  the  Rocky  mountains. 

Face  of  the  Country. — The  greater  part  of  this  Territory,  as  far  as 
is  known,  seems  to  consist  of  a  high  prairie  land.  A  chain  uf  highlanda, 
called  the  Black  hills,  runs  from  near  the  Platte  river,  in  a  north-east 
direction,  to  the  Missouri  river,  which  they  approach  in  about  102°  west 


618  TERRITORY  OF  NEBRASKA. 

longitude,  dividing  the  waters  running  into  the  Ycllowslone  from  those 
flowing  iuto  the  Missouri,  below  its  great  south-eastern  bend.  On  the 
west,  the  Kooky  mountains  rear  their  lofty  summits,  in  some  instances 
above  the  snow-line,  and  send  out  spurs  into  Nebraska.  Fremont's  peak, 
the  loftiest  known  summit  in  this  chain,  in  the  United  States,  on  the 
west  border  of  this  Territory,  is  13,570  feet  in  hight,  and  Long's  peak, 
at  the  south-west  extremity,  about  12,000  feet.  A  recent  authority, 
writing  on  the  spot,  thus  speaks  of  Nebraska :  "  The  soil,  for  a  space  varying 
from  50  to  100  miles  west  of  the  Missouri  river,  is  nearly  identical  with 
that  of  Missouri  and  Iowa.  The  highlands  are  open  prtiirie  grounds, 
covered  with  grasses ;  the  river  bottom,  a  deep,  rich  loam,  shaded  by 
dense  forest  trees.  From  this  district  to  about  the  mouth  of  the  llunning 
"Water  river,  is  one  boundless  expanse  of  rolling  prairie,  so  largely  inter- 
mingled with  sand  as  to  be  unfit  for  agriculture,  but  carpeted  with  suc- 
culent grasses.  A  third  district,  extending  in  a  belt  many  miles  east  and 
west  of  the  Mandan  village,  on  the  most  north  bend  of  the  Missouri,  and 
southward  across  the  southern  boundary  of  the  Territory,  is  a  formation 
of  marl  and  earthy  limestone,  which  can  not  be  otherwise  than  very  pro- 
ductive. A  fourth  district,  lying  north  of  the  Missouri  river,  is  a  suc- 
cession of  undulating  plains,  fertile,  but  rather  dry,  and  covered  with  a 
thick  sward  of  grass,  on  which  feed  innumerable  herds  of  bison,  elk,  and 
deer.  A  fifth  district  is  at  the  base  of  the  Black  hills,  extending  from 
thence  to  the  llocky  mountains,  and  including  the  valleys  of  the  Yellow- 
stone, Maria's,  and  other  smaller  rivers.  The  valley  of  the  Yellowstone 
is  spacious,  fertile,  and  salubrious.  The  streams  are  fringed  with  trees, 
from  whence  the  valley  expands  many  miles  to  the  mountains.  This 
region  is  one  of  the  finest  on  the  globe."  Coal  has  been  found  in  the 
north-western  counties  of  Missouri,  and  it  is  probable  may  be  found  in 
the  south-east  portion  of  Nebraska.  The  limestone  formation  of  Missouri 
and  Iowa  extends  over  the  first  district  of  Nebraska,  described  in  the 
passage  just  quoted.  Beyond  that  district  the  formation  is  sandstone, 
and  rocks  of  the  diluviau  period  —  the  former  south  and  west  of  the 
Missouri,  chiefly,  and  the  latter  north  of  it.  Coal  has  been  seen  cropping 
out  in  various  places  along  the  Nebraska  river,  in  the  south-west  part 
of  the  Territory,  by  Fremont,  and  other  travelers. 

The  first  district  is  the  only  really  good  agricultural  region  at  present. 
It  is  a  rich  loam,  finely  timbered  and  watered.  The  second  is  strictly 
pastoral.  The  third  has  soil,  but  is  destitute  of  timber,  and  very  sparsely 
supplied  with  springs.  The  fourth  also  has  soil,  but  has  the  same  draw- 
backs. The  fifth,  as  already  stated,  is  one  of  the  finest  regions  on  the 
globe,  in  the  same  latitude. 

Rivers. — This  extensive  tract  is  traversed  by  the  Missouri,  one  of  the 
most  important  rivers  on  the  globe,  which  takes  its  rise  on  the  western 
border  of  Nebraska,  among  the  declivities  of  the  Eocky  mountains,  runs 
north-east  for  about  1,000  miles,  to  48°  20'  north  latitude;  receiving  a 
large  number  of  affluents  from  the  north,  and  the  Yellowstone,  nearly 
1,000  miles  long,  with  a  multitude  of  sub-tributaries  from  the  south; 
then  turning  to  the  south-east,  pursues  its  course  for  1,800  miles  further, 
having  its  flood  of  waters  swelled  by  the  influx  of  a  constant  succession 


TERRITORY  OF  NEBRASKA.  519 

of  streams,  among  which  the  principal  are  in  the  order  named — the  Little 
Missouri,  the  Mankizilah  or  Lower  White  Earth,  the  Niobrarah  and  its 
affluent  the  Kehah  Paha,  and  the  Nebraska  or  Platte  river,  all  withiu 
the  Territory.  The  most  important  of  the  northern  tributaries,  beginning 
at  the  west,  are  the  Gallatin,  Madison,  and  Jefferson  rivers  (whose  con- 
fluence forms  the  main  stream),  followed  by  the  Dearborn,  Maria's,  Milk, 
Upper  White  Earth,  and  numerous  small  streams.  The  Platte  or 
Nebraska,  which  gives  name  to  the  Territory,  rises  in  two  branches,  one 
in  the  west  of  Kansas,  and  the  other  in  the  south-west  part  of  Nebraska, 
and  flows  east  for  about  1,200  miles  through  the  south  part  of  this  region. 
The  Big  Horn  and  Tongue  rivers  are  the  principal  tributaries  of  the 
Yellowstone.  The  Missouri  is  navigable  to  the  Great  falls,  about  3,830 
miles  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  Col.  Stevens  is  of  opinion  it  might 
be  navigated  by  small  steamboats  200  or  300  miles  above  the  falls. 
The  Yellowstone  has  been  navigated  for  80  miles  by  steamboats,  and  it 
may  be  ascended  200  or  300  further  by  flatboats.  The  El  Paso  steamer 
ascended  the  Nebraska  in  the  spring  of  1853,  to  the  distance  of  400  or 
500  miles,  but  this  river  can  only  be  navigated  at  the  highest  water,  and 
even  then  the  navigation  is  difficult.  As  its  name  imports,  it  is  broad 
and  shallow,  and  during  the  dry  season  is,  in  parts,  only  a  series  of 
pools.  The  spring  freshets  in  the  Missouri  usually  occur  about  the  1st 
of  June. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — The  Great  falls  of  the  Missouri, 
and  the  gorge  above,  enclosed  with  perpendicular  rocks  1,200  feet  high, 
may  claim  the  first  place  among  the  striking  natural  objects  of  this  Terri- 
tory, The  falls  extend  through  a  space  of  many  miles,  and  vary  in 
bight  from  19  to  87  feet,  the  hight  of  the  Great  fall.  Near  42°  nofth 
latitude,  and  103°  west  longitude,  on  the  head  waters  of  Lower  Wliite 
Earth  river  or  Mankizilah,  and  between  Fort  Laramie  and  the  Missouri, 
is  a  remarkable  tract  or  valley,  about  30  miles  wide,  and  perhaps  80  or 
90  long,  called  Mauvaises  Terrcs,  or  "  bad  lands,"  from  its  thin,  sterile 
soil,  which  is  covered  with  only  a  very  scanty  growth  of  grass.  The 
appearance  of  this  region  presents  a  most  striking  contrast  to  that  of  the 
adjacent  country.  "  From  the  uniform,  monotonous,  and  open  prairies, 
the  traveler  suddenly  descends  100  or  200  feet  into  a  valley  that  looks  as 
if  it  had  sunk  away  from  the  surrounding  world,  leaving  standing  all  over 
it  thousands  of  abrupt,  irregular,  prismatic  and  columnar  masses,  fre- 
quently capped  with  irregular  pyramids,  and  stretching  up  to  a  hight 
of  from  100  to  200  feet  or  more.  So  thickly  are  these  natural  towers 
Btudded  over  the  surface  of  this  extraordinary  region,  that  the  traveler 
treads  his  way  through  deep,  confined,  labyrinthine  passages,  not  unlike 
the  narrow  irregular  streets  and  lanes  of  some  quaint  old  town  of  the 
European  continent.  One  might  almost  imagine  oneself  approaching 
some  magnificent  city  of  the  dead,  where  the  labor  and  genius  of  forgotten 
nations  had  left  behind  them  the  monuments  of  their  art  and  skill."  In 
one  sense,  this  region  is  truly  a  great  "city  of  the  deed,"  as  it  contains, 
in  the  most  extraordinary  profusion,  the  fossil  skeletons  of  various  tribes 
of  animals  now  extinct,  particularly  of  the  Pachi/dermata.  Among 
others,  there  was  found  a  nearly  entire  skeleton  of  the  Faloeothefrium, 


520  TERRITORY  OF  NEBRASKA. 

eighteen  feet  in  length.  Unhappily  its  substance  was  too  fragile  to 
admit  of  removal.  Fremont's  Peak,  13,579  feet  high,  aud  Long's  Peak, 
1*2,000  feet  high,  both  already  referred  to,  lie  in  the  west  and  south-west 
part  of  the  Territory,  the  former  immediately  on  the  boundary  of  Oregon. 
The  bluffs,  which  often  recede  for  several  miles  from  the  rivers,  fre- 
quently rise  from  50  to  500  feet  above  the  bottom-lands,  and  present  the 
appearance  of  castles,  towers,  domes,  ramparts,  terraces,  etc.  In  the 
third  district  described  above,  elevations  "  called  buffes  by  the  Canadian 
French,  and  ccrros  by  the  Spaniards,  are  profusely  scattered.  Here  and 
there  the  traveler  finds  the  surface  varying  in  diameter  from  100  feet  to 
a  mile,  elevated  from  15  to  50  feet  above  the  surrounding  surface.  They 
are  not  hills  or  knobs,  the  sides  of  which  are  more  or  less  steep  and 
covered  with  grass.  Their  sides  are  generally  perpendicular,  their  sur- 
faces flat,  and  often  covered  with  mountain  cherries  and  other  shrubs. 
They  have  the  appearance  of  having  been  suddenly  elevated  above  the 
surrounding  surface  by  some  specific  cause." 

Climate. — In  a  region  extending  through  9°  of  latitude  and  18°  of 
longitude,  there  must  necessarily  be  considerable  variation  in  temperature 
and  climate.  Though  the  climate  of  Nebraska  has  not  been  accurately 
ascertained,  enough  is  known,  however,  for  practical  purposes.  In  east- 
ern Nebraska  vegetation  is  some  weeks  later  than  in  Iowa,  and  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  mountains  some  weeks  later  still.  From  the  city  of 
St.  Louis,  traveling  either  northward  or  westward,  the  climate  becomes 
colder  about  in  the  same  degree — the  difi"erence  of  elevation,  traveling 
west,  being  about  equivalent  in  its  effects  to  the  difference  of  latitude 
traveling  north.  Snow  falls  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains  about  the  1st 
of  September,  and  at  Council  Bluffs  about  the  1st  of  November.  These 
may  be  regarded  as  the  extremes. 

Soil  and  Timber. — We  will  briefly  recapitulate  the  best  soils  as  far 
as  ascertained.  Near  the  south-east  extremity,  the  soil  is  often  14  feet  deep. 
The  valleys  of  the  Yellowstone  and  its  tributaries  are  represented  as  the 
garden  of  Nebraska.  For  about  250  miles  west  of  the  Missouri  river, 
says  Hale,  the  prairie  through  which  the  Nebraska  passes  is  very  rich  and 
admirably  adapted  to  cultivation  ;  and  the  whole  "divide"  for  the  distance 
named,  between  the  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  is  a  soil  easy  to  till  and  yield- 
ing heavy  crops.  Much  of  the  prairie  region,  where  untillable,  is  yet 
covered  with  rich  pastures.  Deficiency  of  timber  is  the  great  want  of 
Nebraska ;  yet  there  are  many  well-timbered  districts.  There  are  dense 
forests  of  Cottonwood,  on  the  Missouri  bottoms,  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Nebraska  to  Minnesota,  and  on  the  bluffs  and  highlands  bordering  the 
Missouri  river,  large  tracts  of  timber,  besides  countless  groves  of  oak, 
black  walnut,  lime,  slippery  elm,  ash,  etc.  The  Nebraska  valley  is  stated 
to  be  densely  wooded  for  many  miles  on  each  side,  to  a  distance  of  more 
than  100  miles  above  its  mouth,  and  the  valleys  ,of  the  rivers  and  streams 
between  it  and  the  Lower  White  Earth  as  sufficiently  well  timbered  for 
dense  settlement.  The  space  between  the  Yellowstone  and  Missouri  is 
also  said  to  be  well  wooded.  Fir,  pine,  spruce,  and  cedar  are  found  in 
the  region  of  the  Black  hills  and  Kocky  mountains,  and  may,  at  a  future 


TERRITORY  OF  NEBRASKA.  521 

day,  furnish  lumber  to  the  eastern  portion  of  the  Territory,  by  floating 
it  down  the  great  rivers  Yellowstone,  Missouri,  and  Nebraska. 

Animals. — This  country  is  the  paradise  of  the  hunter  and  trapper. 
Vast  herds  of  buffalo  roam  over  its  prairies,  though  now  rapidly  diminish- 
ing in  numbers.  Lewis  and  Clark  have  stated  that  at  times  the  Missouri 
was  backed  up  as  by  a  dam,  by  the  multitude  of  these  animals  cros-ing. 
The  grizzly  bear,  Eocky  mountain  goat,  sheep,  and  antelope,  iufest  the 
slopes  of  the  E,ocky  mountains ;  and  the  beaver  in  former  times  existed 
in  great  numbers,  though  the  trappers  are  now  fast  thinning  them  out. 
Otters  also  are  found.  Panthers  were  met  with  by  Lewis  and  Clark  and 
others;  also  black  bears,  deer,  elks,  and  wolves. 

Commerce. — The  fur  and  peltry  trade  constitutes  the  commerce  of 
this  vast  region.  Steamboats  ascend  the  Missouri  above  the  mouth  of 
the  Yellowstone,  and  up  the  latter  river  300  miles. 

Forts  and  Stations. — The  principal  forts  are  Fort  Kearney,  on  the 
Nebraska  river,  in  about  40°  35'  north  latitude,  and  98  °50'  west  longitude  ; 
Fort  Laramie,  on  a  tributary  of  the  Nebraska,  (bearing  its  own  name,)  in 
about  42°  10'  north  latitude,  and  104°  30' west  longitude;  Fort  St.  Vrain, 
on  the  South  fork  of  the  Nebraska,  in  about  40°  20'  north  latitude, 
and  104°  50'  west  longitude  ;  Fort  Benton,  at  or  near  the  junction  of  the 
Maria's  river  with  the  Missouri,  in  about  47°  30'  north  latitude,  and 
109°  30  west  longitude  ;  Fort  Union,  at  the  junction  of  the  Yellowstone 
and  Missouri,  in  about  48°  north  latitude,  and  104°  west  longitude  ;  Forts 
Mandan  and  Clark,  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Missouri,  in  about  47°  30' 
north  latitude,  and  101°  west  longitude;  Fort  Pierre,  on  the  Missouri, 
in  about  44°  30'  north  latitude,  and  100°  30'  west  longitude;  and  Forts 
Manuel,  Berthold,  and  Alexander,  all  on  the  Yellowstone.  Lewis  and 
Clark  passed  the  winter  of  1805  at  Fort  Mandan,  since  which  time  it 
has  not  been  occupied.  Among  the  prominent  stations  are  Bellevue,  on 
the  Missouri,  9  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Nebraska,  here  is  an  Indian 
agency  and  school  among  the  Ottoes  and  Omahas ;  Nebraska  Depot,  a 
ferry  3  miles  below  the  river  of  that  name  ;  Nebraska  Center  post-office, 
a  little  below  Fort  Kearney,  and  Table  Creek  post-office,  at  old  Fort 
Kearney,  30  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Nebraska  river ;  Omaha  City, 
the  capital,  and  Council  Bluffs,  on  the  Missouri,  the  site  of  Old  Fort 
Calhoun,  25  miles  above  Kanesville,  Iowa. 

Population. — The  population  is  almost  wholly  composed  of  the  abo- 
rigenes,  though  emigration  has  already  begun  to  flow  in  rapidly  since  the 
organization  of  the  Territory,  in  May,  1854.  The  principal  tribes  of 
Indians  are  the  Mandans,  M.inetarees,  Crows,  Ottoes,  Omahas,  Puncahs, 
Pawnees,  Eicarees  or  Arricarees,  Gross  Ventres,  Fall  or  Rapid  Indians, 
Black  Feet,  Missourees,  and  a  colony  of  Half  Breeds — the  last  between 
the  Great  and  Little  Nemaha  rivers,  in  the  south-east  corner  of  the  Territory. 
Of  these  the  Black  Feet,  a  numerous  and  warlike  tribe,  roam  over  the 
whole  eastern  slope  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  north  of  the  Nebraska  river, 
and  even  into  British  America.  The  Dacotah  or  Sioux  tribes  roam  over 
the  northern  and  western  part  of  Nebraska,  and  are  divided  into  the 
Pruelle,  Yaneton,  Two-Kettle,  Black-Feet-Sioux,  Ouk-pa-pas,  Sans- Arcs, 
and  Minnie.     The  Crow  Indians  or  Ups-arokas,  are  on  the  waters  of  the 


522  TERRITOllY  OF  MINNESOTA. 

Yellowstone.  The  Puucahs,  Oiuahas,  and  Ottoos — all  speaking  a  dialect 
of  the  Dacotahs  or  Sioux — are  in  the  soutli-iast  part  of  the  territory,  near 
the  Missouri  river.  The  Missourecs  have  joined  with  the  Ottoes.  West 
of  the  latter  tribes,  and  north  of  the  Nebra.<ka  and  west  of  the  Missouri, 
are  the  Pawnees,  a  numerous  tribe.  The  total  population  of  the  Missouri 
valley,  in  1853,  was  estimated,  by  the  Indian  Department,  at  43,430. 
Settlements  are  now  making  in  Nebraska  at  Old  Fort  Kearney,  and  some 
other  points  south  of  the  Platte,  and  at  Bellcvue,  Omaha  City,  and  fort 
Calhoun  on  tbe  north  ;  also,  at  the  crossings  of  Elk  horn,  Loup  fork, 
and  Wood  rivers,  on  tbe  California  road,  north  of  the  Platte.  Omaha 
City  is  the  capital. 

History. — The  valley  of  the  Missouri  was  first  visited  by  Father 
Marquette,  in  the  last  half  of  the  17th  century.  La  Salle  followed  him 
in  16ril-'82.  Nebraska  formed  a  part  of  the  great  grant  of  the  Mississipi 
valley  to  Crozart,  in  1712;  and  was  the  object  of  Law's  celebrated  Mis- 
sissipi Scheme.  This  territory  came  into  possession  of  the  United  States 
in  1803,  as  a  part  of  the  Louisiana  purchase,  and  successively  formed 
parts  of  that  and  the  Missouri  and  Indian  Territories.  In  1804-'05  an 
expedition,  commanded  by  Lewis  and  Clark,  under  the  direction  of  the 
United  States  government,  ascended  the  Missouri  river,  wintered  at  Fort 
Mandan,  and  the  next  spring  crossed  theEocky  mountains  to  the  present 
Territory  of  Oregon,  and  are  believed  to  have  been  the  first  explorers  of 
the  interior  and  western  parts  of  Nebraska.  In  May,  1854,  the  Congress 
of  the  United  States  erected  this  region  into  a  separate  territory,  reserv- 
ing however  the  right  to  subdivide  it. 


TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA. 


This  Territory  isbounded  on  the  north  by  British  America,  east  by  Lake 
Superior  and  the  State  of  Wisconsin ;  south  by  Iowa  and  Missouri  Ter- 
ritory, and  the  west  by  Nebraska  Territory.  The  Lake  of  the  Woods, 
with  a  chain  of  small  lakes  and  their  outlets,  forms  a  part  of  the  northern 
boundary,  the  St.  Croix  and  Mississippi  a  part  of  the  eastern,  and  the 
Missouri  and  White  Earth  rivers  the  western  boundary.  It  lies  between 
42°  30'  and  40°  north  latitude,  and  between  about  89°  30'  and  103° 
west  longitude,  being  about  650  miles  in  extreme  length  from  east  to 
west,  and  430  from  north  to  south,  including  an  area  of  nearly  166,025 
square  miles,  or  106,250,000  acres. 

Face  of  the  Country, — Though  there  are  no  mountains  in  Min- 


TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA.  523 

nesota,  it  is  the  most  elevated  tract  of  land  between  the  Gulf  Meixco  and 
Hudson's  bay;  and  from  its  central  bights  sends  its  waters  to  every 
point  of  the  compass,  but  mostly  to  the  north  and  south.  The  position 
from  which  the  Ked  river  of  the  north  and  the  8t.  Peter's  take  their 
opposite  courses  is  almost  exactly  in  the  center  of  the  Territory,  and 
elevated  about  2,000  feet  above  the  Gulf  Mexico.  A  plateau,  called  the 
"Coteau  des  Prairie, ''  or  "Prairie  Hights,"  about  200  miles  in  length, 
and  from  15  to  40  in  breadth,  runs  through  the  middle  of  the  south- 
ern part  of  Minnesota.  Its  greatest  elevation  is  about  1,916  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  its  average  higlit  about  1450  feet.  The 
northern  portion  which  is  the  highest,  is  about  890  feet  above  Bigstone 
lake,  which  lies  in  its  vicinity.  Passing  the  St.  Peter's  or  Minnesota  river, 
we  come  upon  another  range  of  bights,  known  as  the  Coteau  du  Grand 
Bois,  or  the  Wooded  llights,  which  extend  fur  more  than  100  miles  nearly 
parallel  with  the  Coteau  des  Prairies.  This  ridge  is  mostly  covered  with 
an  extensive  forest  of  hard  wood.  Through  the  middle  of  the  triangle 
which  occupies  the  north-east  portion  of  the  Territory  runs  a  third  range 
of  bights,  called  the  "Hauteurs  de  Terie,"  or  "Highlands,"  which  ex- 
tend west  by  south  about  300  miles,  and  forms  a  dividing  ridge,  whence 
flow  the  waters  that  seek  Lake  Superior  and  the  Mississippi  in  one  direc- 
tion, and  Hudson's  bay  in  the  other.  A  range  of  less  altitude  than  the 
"  Coteau  des  Prairies,  but  continuing  in  the  same  direction,  forms  the 
watershed  of  the  streams  flowing  into  the  Missouri  on  the  west,  and  those 
flowing  into  the  Red  river  on  the  east.  The  rest  of  the  country  generally 
alternates  between  sandhills  and  swamps. 

Geology. — Minnesota,  east  of  the  lied  river  of  the  north,  is  mostly 
covered  with  drift,  lying  on  crystalline  and  metamorphic  rocks,  which 
occasionally  protrude  to  the  surface  in  the  valleys  of  the  rivers  and  on 
the  shores  of  lakes.  In  the  south-east,  the  lower  magnesian  limestone 
crops  out  in  the  valleys  of  the  Mississippi  and  St.  Peter's  rivers;  and  on  the 
latter  river  the  sandstone  occasionally  obtrudes  in  a  few  places,  with  oc- 
casional intrusions  of  igneous  rocks.  On  the  shores  of  Lake  Superior 
are  "  alternations  of  metamoi-phic  schists,  slates,  and  sandstones,  with 
volcanic  grits  and  other  bedded  traps  and  porphyries,  iuteresected  by 
numerous  basaltic  and  greenstone  dikes,  with  occasional  deposits  of  red 
clay,  marls,  and  drift."  In  the  north-east  angle  of  Minnesota  is  a  tract  of 
horubleudic  and  argillaceous  slates,  with  bedded  porphyries  and  intru- 
sions of  green  stone  and  granite.  On  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  llaiuy 
lake,  and  their  outlets,  are  metamorphic  schists,  with  gneiss  and  gueis- 
soid  rocks. 

Minerals. — The  indications  from  geological  surveys  of  Minnesota 
do  not  favor  the  hopes  of  great  metallic  wealtli  within  its  borders.  Cop- 
per has  been  found,  but  in  most  instances  it  is  not  "  in  place,"  but  ap- 
pears to  have  been  carried  thither  by  the  drift  and  boulders.  The  pro- 
bability is  that,  of  richer  metallic  ores  than  iron,  this  Territory  will  noty 
aflbrd  (except  near  Lake  Superior)  sufiicient  quantity  to  repay  the  labors 
of  the  miner;  for,  if  they  exist  at  all,  they  probably  lie  at  great  depth/ 
The  indications  are  equally  unfavorable  to  there  being  any  large  depos 
of  coal.     A   lead  vein,  4  inches   in  thickness,  was   discovered  on 


524  TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA. 

Waraju  river  by  the  geological  crops  of  Profospor  Owen.  The  most  re- 
markable mineral  in  this  Territory  is  the  red  pipestone,  of  which  the 
Indians  make  their  pipes,  and  which  is  believed  to  be  peculiar  to  the 
region  of  the  Cotcau  des  Prairies.  A  slab  of  this  stone  has  been,  or  is 
to  be,  sent  to  Washington,  to  be  inserted  in  the  great  national  monument 
erecting  to  the  memory  of  the  father  of  his  country.  Halt  exists  in  vast 
quantities  between  47°  and  49°  north  latitude,  and  97°  and  99"  west 
longitude. 

Lakes  and  Rivers. — Minnesota  is  perhaps  even  more  deserving  than 
Michigan  of  the  appellation  of  the  "Lake  State,"  as  it  abounds  iH 
lacustrine  waters  of  every  size,  from  lakes  of  40  miles  in  extent,  to 
email  ponds  of  less  than  a  mile  in  circuit.  These  beautiful  sheets  of 
water  give  origin  to  rivers  flowing  north,  south,  and  east,  some  finding  their 
way  to  the  Atlantic  through  the  mighty  Mississippi  and  the  Gulf  of  Mex- 
ico; others  through  the  great  lakes,  Niagara,  and  the  St.  Lawrence;  and 
others,  again,  pass  off  to  the  north,  and  seek  the  ocean  through  Hud- 
son's bay  and  straits.  The  largest  of  these  lakes,  with  the  exception  of  Lake 
Superior,  and  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  llainy  lake,  Red,  Minui-Wakan 
or  Devil  lake,  Leech,  and  Mille  Lac  or  Spirit  lake.  These  generally 
have  clear,  pebbly  bottoms,  and  are  well  stocked  with  fish,  among  which 
are  white  fish,  pike,  pickerel,  maskelonge,  sucker,  perch,  and  trout. 
Wild  rice  grows  on  the  borders  of  many  of  them,  especially  at  the 
north.  Devil  lake,  which  is  on  the  4Sth  parallel  of  north  latitude,  in 
the  north-west  of  Minnesota,  is  about  40  miles  in  length  by  15  in  breadth, 
and  its  waters,  which  are  brackish,  have  no  visible  outlet.  Red  lake, 
on  the  same  parallel,  east  of  Red  river,  with  which  it  communicates,  is 
divided  into  two  portions,  united  by  a  strait  of  2  miles  in  width,  and 
covers  about  the  same  area  as  Devil  lake.  Lake  of  the  Woods,  and 
Rainy  lake,  (the  former  a  larger  sheet  of  water,  perhaps  100  miles  in 
circuit,)  are  both  on  the  north-east  boundary  of  the  Territory.  Lake  Pepin, 
a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  is  a  mere  expansion  of  the  Mississippi  in  the 
south-east  of  this  Territory.  The  rivers  and  large  streams  of  Minnesota  are 
almost  as  numerous  as  its  lakes.  The  far-famed  Mississippi  takes  its 
humble  origin  from  Itasca  lake,  from  whose  pellucid  waters  it  issues  a 
rivulet  of  but  a  few  feet  in  width,  and  first  meandering  in  a  north  east  di- 
rection through  a  number  of  small  lakes,  to  receive  their  tribute,  it  turns 
to  the  south,  and  pursues  its  lordly  way  to  its  far  distant  exit  in  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  laving  in  its  course  the  shores  of  9  States  and  1  Territory. 
About  800  miles  of  its  length  are  included  within  Minnesota,  of  which 
600  are  navigable  for  steamboats;  200  below  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony, 
and  400  above;  with  two  interruptions,  however,  at  Sauk  rapids  and 
Little  falls.  The  Rum  and  St.  Croix,  tributaries  of  the  Mississippi, 
drain  the  south-east  portion  of  the  Territory,  and  the  Red  river  the  north- 
ern, passing  off  into  Hudson's  bay.  It  is  the  outlet  of  Traverse,  Ottertail, 
Red,  and  several  smaller  lakes.  It  has  a  course  of  about  500  miles 
within  Minnesota,  though  it  does  not  flow  directly  north  more  than  200 
•niles  in  that  distance.  The  Lake  Superior  slope  is  principally  drained 
y  the  St.  Louis  and  its  branches,  and  by  the  outlets  of  that  series  of 
^all  lakes  that  form  the  north-east  boundary  of  Minnesota.     The  great 


TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA,  525 

valley  formed  by  the  slopes  of  Coteau  des  Prairies  and  the  Coteau  du 
Bois,  is  drained  by  the  St.  Peter's  or  Minnesota  and  its  tributaries. 
This  river  runs  first  in  a  south-east,  and  then  in  a  north-east  course,  with  a 
total  length  of  from  400  to  500  miles,  and  is  navigable  for  steamers.  Its 
principal  branch  is  the  Blue  Earth  or  Mankato  river.  The  St.  Peter's, 
with  the  Crow  Wing  and  Crow  rivers,  are  the  principal  tributaries  of 
the  Mississippi  from  the  west.  The  Riviere  h  Jacques  (reeVe-air'  ah 
zhak)  and  the  Sioux  are  the  principal  affluents  of  the  Missouri  from  this 
Territory.  They  both  have  an  almost  south  course,  the  former  being  about 
600,  and  the  latter  350  miles  long.  Nearly  the  whole  western  boundary 
is  washed  by  the  Missouri,  which  opens  the  western  part  of  the  Territory 
to  the  commerce  of  the  great  Mississippi  valley.  The  rivers  of  Min- 
nesota abound  in  small  falls  and  rapids,  which,  while  they  interrupt 
navigation,  furnish  extensive  water-power.  The  St.  Croix  is  navigable 
to  Stillwater  for  large  boats,  and  for  small  ones  to  the  falls  ;  the  Minnesota 
to  Traverse  des  Sioux,  and  at  high  water  100  miles  further;  the  St. 
Louis  20  miles  for  large  vessels,  and  the  Red  river  in  nearly  all  parts 
for  either  Durham  boats  or  steamboats.  The  Blue  Earth,  Rum,  Elk, 
and  others  are  navigable  from  50  to  100  miles  for  steamboats  of  light 
draught  and  flat  boats. 

Objects  op  Interest  to  Tourists. — If  we  except  cataracts  of  the 
first  magnitude  and  high  mountains,  Minnesota  presents  as  great  a 
variety  of  natural  objects  of  interest  as  any  portion  of  our  widely-ex- 
tended domain.  The  traveler  enters  her  Territory,  ascending  the  Mis- 
sissippi, amid  beautiful  islands,  (one  of  which.  Mountain  island,  is  428 
feet  high,)  and  between  cliff's  of  sandstone  and  magnesian  limestone 
rising  to  an  elevation  of  from  300  to  500  feet.  Soon  he  passes  into  that 
beautiful  expansion  of  the  river  named  Lake  Pepin,  on  the  east  bank  of 
which  he  has  Maiden's  rock,  400  feet  high;  and  near  the  northern  ex- 
tremity of  the  lake.  La  Grange  mountain,  a  headland  about  330  feet 
above  the  lake,  180  of  which,  at  the  base,  is  sandstone,  capped  with 
magnesian  limestone.  As  he  proceeds,  continuing  his  ascending  voyage, 
the  traveler  arrives  at  the  famed  St.  Anthony's  falls,  less  celebrated  on 
account  of  their  perpendicular  pitch  (only  16 j  feet)  than  for  their  ac- 
complishments of  wild  scenery  and  their  geological  interest.  The  falls 
are  divided  by  an  island,  as  at  Niagara,  the  greater  portion  of  the  water 
passing  on  the  western  side,  which  is  310  yards  wide.  The  entire 
descent,  including  the  rapids,  is  58  feet  in  ,^60  rods.  St.  Anthony's 
falls  will  no  doubt  one  day  become  a  Western  Lowell,  indeed  its  capa- 
bilities as  a  manufacturing  site  far  transcend  those  of  the  town  named, 
when  the  wants  of  the  country  shall  call  them  into  requisition.  Foun- 
tain cave,  2  or  3  miles  above  St.  Paul,  is  an  excavation  in  the  white 
sandstone,  which  opens  by  an  arched  entrance  25  feet  wide  and  20  high, 
into  a  chamber  150  feet  long  and  20  wide,  along  the  center  of  which 
glides  a  rivulet,  which  may  be  heard  from  its  inner  and  hidden  recesses 
dashing  down  in  small  cascades.  The  passage  becomes  very  narrow  as 
you  proceed  up  the  channel,  occasionally  opening  into  small  chambers. 
Mr.  Seymour  advanced  nearly  1,000  feet  within  the  cave  without  reach- 
ing its  termination.     Brown's  falls  are  in  a  narrow  stream,  the  outlet 


526  TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA. 

of  several  small  lakes  on  the  west  side  of  the  Mississippi.  They  have  a 
perpendicular  descent  of  50  feet;  and  includin;^  smaller  falls  and  rapids, 
lOU  foet.  Pilot  knob,  near  the  confluence  of  the  Mississippi  and  St. 
Peter's,  is  an  elevation  of  262  feet,  which  commands  a  fine  view  of  the 
surrounding  country  and  the  two  rivers  near  whose  junction  it  stands. 
The  St.  Croix  falls  or  rapids,  about  30  miles  from  its  mouth,  have  a 
deseent  of  nearly  50  feet  in  300  yards;  but  the  most  interesting  portion 
of  the  scene  consists  in  the  perpendicular  walls  of  trap-rock  through 
which  the  river  has  forced  its  way,  about  half  a  mile  below  the  rapids, 
and  through  which  it  rushes  with  great  velocity,  forming  eddies  and 
whirlpools.  At  this  place,  40  or  50  feet  above  the  river,  port-holes,  20 
to  25  feet  in  diameter,  and  15  to  20  deep,  have  been  worn  by  the  action 
of  the  water.  This  pass  is  called  the  Dalles  of  the  St.  Croix.  The 
Sioux  river  '*  breaks  through  a  remarkable  formation  of  massive  quartz, 
which  crosses  it  perpendicularly,"  at  the  Great  bend,  in  about  43°  30' 
north  latitude,  and  forms  a  series  of  falls  and  rapids,  one  of  which  is 
21  feet,  another  18,  and  a  third  10  feet  in  perpendicular  pitch.  The 
entire  descent  in  400  yards  is  100  feet.  Minnesota  shares  with  Wis- 
consin in  the  falls  and  rapids  of  the  St.  Louis  river,  another  picturesque 
and  romantic  display  of  nature's  works — for  a  description  of  which,  see 
Wisconsin.  The  rivers  of  Minnesota  are  filled  with  picturesque  rapids 
and  small  falls,  and  often  bordered  Vith  perpendicular  biuffs  of  lime  and 
sandstone,  or  gently  sloping  hills  that  gracefully  recede  from  the  water. 
This  region  is  the  paradise  of  a  hunter:  its  prairies  and  forests  are  the 
home  of  many  wild  animals,  and  in  its  rivers  and  lakes  swim  great 
varieties  of  fish. 

Climate. — The  climate  of  this  Territory  is  severe,  especially  in  the 
northern  part.  At  the  Pembina  settlement,  under  the  49th  parallel  of 
latitude,  the  cold  is  frequently  so  great  as  to  freeze  quicksilver.  Accord- 
ing to  observations  kept  by  the  officers  stationed  there  in  January,  1847, 
the  mean  temperature  of  the  month,  from  three  observations  a  day,  at 
9  A.  M.,  and  3  and  9  P.  M.,  was  12^°  below  zero  ;  and  the  greatest  cold 
48°  below  the  same  point.  The  average  of  66  days'  observations  was 
'225°  below  zero;  and  the  highest  point  reached  in  the  month  of  January, 
30°  above  zero.  The  hottest  day  in  the  month  of  July  M'as  96°,  showing 
a  range  of  144°  between  the  greatest  cold  and  greatest  heat.  From  the 
17th  of  June  to  the  17th  r,f  July,  1848,  the  mean  temperature  was  69°. 
Even  as  late  as  in  the  Liter  weeks  of  March,  and.  as  early  as  in  November, 
the  thermometer  often  falls  below  zero.  Observations  made  at  St.  Paul's, 
in  latitude  44°  56'  north,  in  December,  January,  and  February,  of  the 
winter  of  1850-'51,  gave  the  following  result:  Clear  days,  22  ;  variable, 
45;  cloudy,  23  ;  rain,  5;  snow,  24;  and  hail-,  1.  Greatest  hight  of  the 
mercury,  47°  ;  lowest  point,  32°  5'  below  zero ;  average  of  the  winter, 
15°  23'.  31  days  the  mercury  was  at  or  above  freezing,  and  37  days 
below  zero.  The  coldest  day,  (January  30,)  it  was  20°  below  ;  and  the 
mildest,  (February  25,)  36°  6'  above  zero.  Winds,  north-north-west, 
50  days ;  south-east  to  east-north-east,  20  days  ;  variable,  20  days.  The 
amount  of  rainy  days  this  winter  is  stated  as  unusually  large,  from  which 
the  dryness  of  the  atmosphere  may  be  inferred.     The  earliest  closing  of 


TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA.  527 

the  navigation  by  ice,  between  1844  and  1850,  was  JS"ovember  8 ;  the 
latest,  December  8.  The  earliest  opening  in  the  same  period,  was 
March  31;  the  latest,  April,  19.  The  climate  of  Minnesota,  in  some 
parts,  is  too  severe  for  Indian  corn,  but  the  dryness  and  steadiness  of  the 
cold  favor  wheat  and  other  winter  grains. 

Soil  and  Productions. — The  soil  of  Minnesota  varies  greatly.  In 
the  valleys  of  the  rivers  it  is  mostly  excellent,  especially  in  those  of  the 
St.  Peter's,  and  of  the  Mississippi  and  its  tributaries  in  the  south-east  part 
of  the  Territory.  Above  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  with  the  exception  of 
the  river  alluvions  and  some  prairie  land,  the  country  is  generally  covered 
with  drift,  interspersed  with  marshes,  too  wet  for  cultivation  ;  but  the 
elevated  portion  is  often  much  of  it  of  tolerable  fertility,  though  inferior 
to  the  calcareous  lands  of  the  river-bottoms,  and  not  unfrequently  covered 
•with  dwarf  timber.  Professor  Owen  remarks  that  "the  general  agricul- 
tural character  of  the  Red  river  country  is  excellent.  The  principal 
drawbacks  are  occasional  protracted  droughts  during  the  midsummer 
months,  and  during  the  spring  freshets,  which  from  time  to  time  overflow 
large  tracts  of  low  prairie,  especially  near  the  Great  bend."  According 
to  Governor  Kamsay,  wherever  the  test  has  been  made,  Minnesota  pro- 
duces corn,  wheat,  oats,  and  potatoes  equal  in  quality  to  that  produced  in 
any  State  in  the  Union,  and  in  quantity  such  as  to  astonish  those  who 
have  been  familiar  even  with  the  rich  bottom-lands  of  Indiana  and  Illinois. 
The  nutritious  wild  rice,  strawberries,  currants,  plums,  cranberries,  grapes, 
and  crab-apples  are  indigenous.  According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there 
were  5,035  acres  of  land  only  under  cultivation,  but  as  the  population  is 
now  (1853)  probably  more  than  treble  what  it  was  at  that  period,  this  will 
be  a  very  unfair  representation  of  the  present  agricultural  condition  of 
the  Territory.  In  the  year  of  the  national  census,  there  were  produced 
1,401  bushels  of  wheat;  125  of  rye  ;  16,725  of  Indian  corn  ;  30,582  of 
oats  ;  10,002  of  peas  and  beans  ;  21,145  of  Irish  potatoes  ;  200  of  sweet 
potatoes;  1,216  of  barley;  515  of  buckwheat;  2,019  tons  of  hay;  85 
pounds  of  wool ;  5,100  of  butter;  2,950  of  maple-sugar  ;  80  of  beeswax 
and  honey.  Value  of  live  stock,  ^92,859;  of  market  produce,  $150 ;  and 
of  slaughtered  animals,  $2,840. 

Forest  Trees. — Parts  of  Minnesota  are  densely  timbered  with  pine 
forests,  and  the  ridges  of  the  drift  districts  with  small  pine,  birch,  aspen, 
maple,  ash,  elm,  hemlock,  firs,  poplar,  and  basswood.  In  the  swamps 
between  the  ridges,  the  tamarack,  cedar,  and  cypress  are  found ;  while 
the  river  bottoms  furnish  a  good  growth  of  oak,  aspen,  soft  maple,  bass- 
wood,  ash,  birch,  white  walnut,  linden,  and  elm.  Much  of  this  timber 
on  the  poorer  ridges,  and  in  some  of  the  marshes,  is  of  rather  a  dwarf 
character.  On  the  Rum,  St^  Croix,  and  Pine  rivers,  there  are  extensive 
forests  of  pine.  According  to  Professor  Owen,  "a  belt  of  forest  crosses 
Minnesota  in  latitude  44"  30',  which  is  remarkable  for  its  unusual  body 
of  timber,  in  a  country  otherwise  but  scantily  timbered."  Bond  says, 
"there  are  80  miles  of  solid  pine  timber  on  the  shores  of  the  Mississippi, 
below  Pokegamin  falls."  Taken  as  a  whole,  Minnesota  can  scarcely  be 
called  a  well-wooded  country.     But  here,  as  in  other  parts  of  the  west, 


528  TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA. 

when  the  prairies  are  protected  from  fire,  a  growth  of  young  timber  soon 
springs  up. 

Animals. — Minnesota  has  always  been  a  favorite  hunting  ground  of 
the  Indians,  and  vast  herds  of  buffalo,  elk,  deer,  antelope,  and  other  game 
still  roam  over  the  plains  west  of  the  Coteau  des  Prairies  and  the  Red 
river.  Deer,  black  bear,  antelope,,  wolverine,  otter,  muskrat,  mink,  mar- 
tin, wolf,  and  racoon  abound,  and  the  mooze  and  grizzly  bear  are  occa- 
sionally met  with.  The  prairies  are  freejuented  by  grouse,  pheasants, 
and  partridges,  and  the  streams  by  wild  ducks  and  geese.  The  other 
birds  are  hawks,  buzzards,  harriers,  owls,  quails,  plovers,  larks,  and  a 
great  variety  of  small  birds.  Among  the  water  fowl  are  the  pelican, 
tern,  hooded  sheldrake,  bustard,  broadbill,  ruffle-headed  duck,  wood  duck, 
teal,  wild  goose,  and  loon.  Both  the  golden  and  bald  eagles  are  occa- 
sionally met  with.  The  rivers  and  lakes  abound  in  fine  fish,  among  which 
are  the  bass,  cap,  sunfish,  pickerel,  pike,  catfish,  whitefish,  sucker,  ruaske- 
longe,  and  trout. 

Manufactures. — There  are  great  capabilities  in  the  innumerable 
rivers  of  Minnesota,  with  their  falls  and  rapids,  for  manufacturing  establish- 
ments. At  present  the  conversion  of  her  pine  forests  into  boards,  scantl- 
ing, etc.,  constitutes  the  principal  manufacture  of  this  new  and  flourishing 
Territory. 

Internal  Improvements. — These,  of  course,  are  as  yet  confined  to 
opening  common  and  military  roads.  In  the  settlement  of  a  new  country,, 
the  emigrants  naturally  first  locate  on  the  great  rivers,  and  a  considerable 
time  elapses  before  they  need  any  other  highway  than  these  rivers  the\d- 
selves  and  short  roads  leading  to  them.  The  best  lands  of  Minnesota  are 
on  her  two  great  navigable  rivers,  the  Mississippi  and  St.  Peter's  ;  and  the 
first  acts  of  internal  improvement  needed  by  this  Territory  will  be  the 
removal  of  some  obstructions  in  these  streams.  It  is  among  the  proba- 
bilities that  the  great  Pacific  Railway  may  traverse  this  region,  as  engineer* 
are  now  examining  the  feasibilities  of  a  northern  route. 

Commerce. — Minnesota  has  the  advantage  of  two  outlets  for  her  pro- 
ducts; one  by  way  of  the  Mississippi,  to  every  portion  of  the  Mississippi 
valley  ;  and  the  other  by  way  of  Lake  Superior,  with  the  Lake  States  and 
with  the  east.  The  great  export  of  this  Territory  is  her  lumber,  and  in 
the  winter  of  1850-'51,  21,000,000  feet  were  cut  on  the  St.  Croix  and  its 
tributaries.  The  same  region  would  send,  it  was  calculated,  60,000,000 
feet,  to  market  in  1853;  and  this  portion  of  the  trade  of  Minnesota  must 
increase  in  a  rapid  ratio  with  the  settlement  of  its  own  waste  lands,  and  of 
the  lower  country.  In  1841,  according  to  Mr.  Prescott's  register  at  Fort 
Snelling,  40  steamboats  arrived  from  below,  48  in  1845,  24  in  1846,  47 
in  1847,  63  in  1848,  85  in  1849,  and  102  in  1850.  The  Mississipi  rivei 
was  open  for  navigation,  or  the  first  boat  arrived,  in  the  years  1841,-'45, 
-'46,  -'48,  -'49,  and  1850,  respet^tively,  on  the  20th  of  March,  6th  of 
April,  olst  of  March,  7th  of  April,  9th  of  April,  and  19th  of  April;  and 
the  river  closed,  in  the  same  years,  on  the  23d  and  26th  of  November, 
and  on  the  4th,  7th,  and  Ist  of  December.  The  foreign  exports  for 
1851-52 amounted  to  $1,207. 

Education. — Minnesota  has  a  public  system  of  free  schools,  which  is 


TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA.  529 

under  the  general  direction  of  a  superintendent  of  common  schools,  and 
the  local  supervision  of  trustees.  Every  tov^nship  containing  not  less 
than  live  families  is  considered  a  school  district.  These  school  trustees 
are  elected  every  year,  and  a  majority  of  the  voters  may  levy  a  tax  not 
to  exceed  $600  a  year.  A  county  tax  is  also  levied  for  school  purposes, 
of  one-fourth  of  one  per  cent.,  on  the  ad  valorem  amount  of  the  assessmenfc 
roll,  made  by  the  county  assessors  :  also  15  per  cent,  of  all  moneys  raised 
by  licenses  of  spirituous  liquors,  and  on  all  fines  for  criminal  acts.  "An 
act  to  incorporate  the  University  of  Minnesota,"  was  passed  February  25, 
1851.  This  institution  is  to  consist  of  five  departments,  namely,  of 
science,  literature,  and  art;  of  laws;  of  medicine;  of  agriculture,  and 
of  elementary  instruction.  Twelve  regents  appointed  by  the  Legislature 
manage  its  aff"airs.  It  is-  located  at  St.  Anthony.  The  proceeds  of  all 
lands  granted  by  the  United  States  go  to  form  a  perpetual  fund  for  the 
support  of  the  University.  Congress  has  granted  two  townships  of  land 
for  this  purpose  already. 

Public  Institutions. — A  Penitentiary,  located  at  Stillwater,  is  ,the 
only  other  institution,  besides  the  University,  of  a  strictly  Territorial  cha- 
racter. A  Historical  Society  was  established  at  St.  Paul  in  1849,  which 
annually  publishes  its  transactions. 

Population. — The  commencement  of  the  settlement  of  this  Territory 
is  quite  recent;  and,  at  the  United  States  census  of  1850,  there  were  only 
I  6,077  inhabitants;  of  whom  3,695  were  white  males,  2,31:3  white  females, 
:  21  free  colored  males,  and  18  free  colored  females.     Governor  Eamsay 
estimated  the  Indian  population  in  1852,  at  25,000.     The  number  of  fa- 
il milies  in  1850  was  1,016,  occupying  1,002  dwellings.     Of  the  population, 
1  except  Indians,  1,586  were  born  in  the  Territory,  2,511  in  the  different 
I  States  of  the  Union,  84  in  England,  271  in  Ireland,  41  in  Scotland  and 
Wales,  1,417  in  British  America,  141  in  Germany,  29  in  France,  65  in 
i  other  countries,  and  22  whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown;  giving  about 
I  83  per  cent,  of  foreign  birth.     In  the  year  ending  June  1,  1850,  there 
I  occurred  30  deaths,  or  about  5  in  every  one  thousand  persons.     In  tho 
i  census  returns,  no  deaf,  dumb,  or  blind,  and  but  1  idiot  and  1  insane  was 
I  reported.     Population  to  the  square  mile  only  .04.     Of  the  entire  popu- 
lation, 340  were  engaged  in  agriculture,  599  were  laborers,  126  lumber- 
imen,  207  hunters,  396  mechanics  and  manufacturers,  208  merchants  and 
(traders,  9  engaged  in  internal  commerce,  and  77  in  the  learned  profess- 
lions.     So  rapid  and  constant  has  been  the  influx  of  emigration  into  this 
'Territory  since  the  taking  of  the  national  census,  that  the  population  in 
11854  was  estimated  at  35,000  civilized  inhabitants. 

j  Counties. — Minnesota  is  divided  into  20  counties,  viz. :  Benton,  Blue 
'Earth,  Cass,  Chicago,  Dakotah,  Fillmore,  Goodhue,  Hennepin,  Itasca, 
'Kapasia,  Le  Sueur,  Nicollet,  Pierce,  Pembina,  Ramsay,  Rice,  Scott,  Sibley, 
jWabashaw,  and  Washington.  Mankatah  and  Wahnahta  have  been  oblite- 
Irated  since  1850.  Capital,  St.  PauL  The  principal  towns  are  St.  Paul, 
oopulation  in  1854  estimated  at  5,000;  and  St.  Anthony's,  2,000.  Still- 
water, »St.  Croix,  and  Wabasha  are  the  other  important  places. 
I  Government. — The  Governor  is  appointed  by  the  President  of  the 
JQnited  States  for  four  years  ;  salary,  §2,500.  The  Legislature  consists 
i  34 


530  TERRITORY  OF  MINNESOTA. 

of  a  Council,  composed  of  9  members,  and  a  House  of  Representatives, 
of  18  members,  both  elected  by  the  people,  the  former  for  2  years,  and 
the  latter  annually.  The  number  of  councilmen  may  be  increased  to  15, 
and  of  the  representatives  to  39.  The  judiciary  consists  of  a  supreme, 
district,  and  probate  courts.  The  Territory  sends  a  delegate  to  the  na- 
tional House  of  Representatives,  who  may  speak,  but  not  vote. 

History. — Minnesota  is  said  to  have  been  first  visited  by  white  men 
in  the  person  of  two  free  traders  in  the  year  165-1 ;  who,  on  their  return 
to  Montreal,  two  years  afterward,  gave  such  glowing  descriptions  of  tho 
country  as  to  induce,  not  only  traders  and  trappers,  but  Jesuit  missionaries 
to  visit  the  country.  To  the  latter  are  we  indebted  for  the  first  printed 
records  of  Minnesota.  The  present  Territory  of  Minnesota  formed  part 
of  the  original  Louisiana  Territory,  as  purchased  from  France  in  1803. 
The  eastern  portion  formed  a  part  of  the  French  possessions,  which  were 
surrendered  to  the  English  at  the  peace  of  1763,  and  subsequently  by 
the  latter  to  the  government  of  the  United  States,  after  the  close  of  the 
Revolution.  During  the  administration  of  Mr.  Jefferson,  (in  1805,)  an 
exploring  expedition,  under  General  Pike,  traversed  the  country.  The 
first  fortification  of  the  United  States  within  the  present  limits  of  Min- 
nesota was  located  at  Fort  Snelling,  which  has  been  occupied  by  an  Ame- 
rican garrison  ever  since  1819.  With  the  exception  of  the  British  set- 
tlement at  Pembina,  which  was  not  then  known  to  be  within  the  limits  of 
the  United  Staets,  no  settlement  were  made  in  this  Territory  till  about 
1845.  In  1849  it  was  organized  into  a  territorial  government.  It  has 
successively  formed  parts  of  the  Missouri,  I^orth-West,  Wisconsin,  and 
Iowa  Territories. 

St.  Paul,  a  flourishing  city,  port  of  entry,  eapitol  of  Minnesota  Ter- 
ritory, and  seat  of  justice  of  Ramsey  county,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, 2,070  miles  from  its  mouth,  and  9  miles  by  land  below  the  Falls  of 
St.  Anthony.  Latitude,  44°  f '2'  46"  north,  longitude,  93°  5'  west.  It 
is  situated  on  a  bluif  70  or  80  feet  high,  and  presents  a  striking  view 
from  the  river.  The  hills  or  bluffs  which  partly  encircle  the  town  abound 
in  excellent  springs.  It  is  at  the  head  of  steamboat  navigation,  and  is 
a  place  of  active  business.  It  was  first  .settled  about  1840,  and  in  1849, 
it  contained  1  church,  2  printing  offices,  3  hotels,  10  stores,  4  warehouses, 
2  drug  stores,  and  1  school-house.  A  fine  state-house  150  feet  long  and 
53  feet  wide,  surmounted  by  a  handsome  dome,  has  recently  been  erected. 
St.  Paul  now  contains  5  or  6  churches,  4  hotels,  2  or  3  printing  offices, 
1  book  store,  2  drug  stores,  numerous  other  stores,  and  several  saw 
mills.  The  value  of  the  business  of  the  town  increased  from  §131,000 
in  1849,  to  §41,579,500  in  1854.  Of  the  latter  amount,  §3,556,000 
shows  the  extent  of  its  banking  business,  §489,000  the  forwarding  and 
commission  business,  §251,000  the  dry  goods,  and  244,500  the  grocery 
business.  The  Baldwin  school  of  this  place  is  a  well-conducted  and 
flourishing  institution.  Population  in  1850,  1,294 j  in  1854,  estimated 
at  6,000. 


REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR.  531 


REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


Lake  Superior  presents  an  area  of  32,000  square  miles.  It  lies 
between  the  46  and  49  parallels  of  latitude,  and  the  84°  and  92° 
of  longitude  west  of  Greenwich.  Its  greatest  length  is  400  miles.  Its 
greatest  breadth  from  Grand  Island  to  Neepigon  bay  is  160  miles.  The 
surface  of  the  lake  is  600  feet  above  the  level  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean; 
but  its  bottom  is  300  feet  belov? ;  for  it  has  a  mean  depth  of  900  feet. 
The  French,  who  were  the  first  explorers  of  Lake  Superior,  fancifully 
described  it  as  a  watery  bow,  of  which  the  southern  shore  was  the 
string,  and  Keweenaw  point,  the  arrow.  The  lake  discharges  through 
the  St.  Mary's  strait  into  Lake  Huron,  which  occupies  a  lower  level  by 
44  feet  and  8  inches.  The  strait  is  about  70  miles  long,  but  it  is  divided 
into  two  sections  by  the  Falls  of  St.  Mary,  15  miles  below  Lake  Supe- 
rior. The  lower  section  is  navigable  for  small  steamboats,  and  vessels 
drawing  6  feet  of  water.  This  section  contains  4  large  islands  and 
several  smaller  ones  ;  but  the  principal  channel  —  the  westerly  one — is 
nearly  a  mile  in  width.  The  Falls  of  St.  Mary,  or  more  properly, 
rapids,  are  three-fourths  of  a  mile  in  length,  having  a  fall  in  that 
distance,  of  21  feet  and  10  inches.  The  two  sections  are  now  united  by 
a  steamboat  and  ship  canal. 

Following  along  the  indentations  of  the  southern  shore,  around  the 
westerly  extremity  of  the  lake,  to  Arrow  river,  opposite  to  Isle  Royale, 
will  give  the  extreme  length  of  the  American  coast  which  can  not  be 
much  less  than  1,000  miles;  a  part  of  which  is  in  Michigan,  part 
in  Wisconsin,  and  part  in  Minnesota.  Lake  Superior  is  walled  in 
by  rocks,  which,  in  some  places,  are  piled  in, mountain  masses  upon  the 
very  shore.  The  waves  dash  against  precipices  and  beetling  crags,  that 
threaten  the  unfortunate  mariner,  in  a  storm  upon  a  lee  shore,  with 
almost  inevitable  destruction.  There  is  tolerable  anchorage  at  the  head 
of  St.  Mary's  strait  Keweenaw  point  has  2  sheltering  bays,  viz: 
Copper  harbor  and  Eagle  harbor.  Protection  may  be  found  from  the 
sui'f,  under  the  lee  of  the  Apostle  islands,  at  La  Pointe.  St.  Louis 
river,  at  the  head  of  the  lake,  is  a  good  harbor;  but  the  best  harbors  are 
afforded  by  the  indentations  of  the  shores  of  Isle  Royale. 

"  Owing  to  the  lofty  crags  which  surround  Lake  Superior,  the  winds, 
sweeping  over  the  lake,  impigne  upon  its  surface  so  abruptly  as  to  raise 
a  peculiarly  deep  and  combing  sea,  which  is  extremely  dangerous  to  boats 
and  small  craft.  It  is  not  safe,  on  this  account,  to  venture  far  out  into 
the  lake  in  bateaux  ;  and,  hence,  voyages  generally  hug  the  shore,  in 
order  to  be  able  to  take  land,  in  case  of  sudden  storms.     During  the 


582  REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 

months  of  June,  July,  and  August,  the  navigation  of  the  lake  is  ordi- 
narily safe  ;  but  aftor  the  middle  of  September,  great  caution  is  required 
in  navigating  its  waters;  and  boatmen  of  experience  never  venture  far 
from  land,  or  attteinpt  long  traverses  across  the  bays.  The  boats  are 
always  drawn  far  up  on  the  land  at  every  camping-place  for  the  night 
lest  they  should  be  staved  to  pieces  by  the  surf,  whch  is  liable,  at  any 
moment,  to  rise  and  beat  with  great  fury  upon  the  beeches." 

One  of  the  most  curious  phenomena  of  the  lake  is  the  sudden  and  in 
explicable  heaving  and  swelling  of  its  waters,  when  the  air  is  still.  Mr. 
Schoolcraft,  who  passed  over  Lake  Superior,  in  1820,  thus  describes  it: 
"Although  it  was  calm,  and  had  been  so  all  day,  save  a  light  breeze  for 
a  couple  of  hours  after  leaving  the  Ontonagon,  the  waters  near  the  shore 
were  in  a  perfect  rage,  heaving  and  lashing  upon  the  rocks  in  a  manner 
which  rendered  it  difficult  to  land.  At  the  same  time,  scarce  a  breath 
of  air  was  stirring,  and  the  atmosphere  was  beautifully  serene."  Now 
this  agitation  was  observed  at  the  close  of  the  day's  voyage,  which  had 
carried  the  party  50  miles  from  the  Ontonagon,  and  the  slight  breeze 
had  been  blowing  only  a  little  while  in  the  morning. 

Another  noticeable  feature  of  Lake  Superior  is  the  extraordinary 
purity  and  transparency  of  the  water,  through  which  every  pebble  may 
be  distinctly  seen  at  the  depth  of  25  feet.  When  out  in  a  canoe  upon 
its  surface,  the  frail  vessel  does  not  seem  to  be  afloat  upon  a  watery  ele- 
ment, but  suspended  in  mid-air,  with  etherial  depths  around  and  below. 
Those  who  have  visited  Lake  George — the  world-famous  Horicon,  whose 
waters  were  at  one  time  carried  to  Rome  to  fill  the  Papal  fonts  —  and 
Lake  Superior,  affirm  that  the  latter  far  surpasses  the  former  in  clearness 
and  transparency.  Indeed,  they  assure  us  that,  often,  while  looking 
down  from  the  Light  at  which  the  boat  seems  suspended,  the  head  will 
grow  dizzy,  and  a  feeling  of  faintness  be  superinduced.  The  water  of 
Lake  Superior,  like  that  of  Lakes  Michigan,  Huron,  and  Erie,  is  "  hard  " 
and  unfit  for  laundry  purposes,  without  a  previous  breaking  by  soda  or 
other  means.  This  can  be  accounted  for  only  on  the  supposition  that  it 
rolls  over  calcareous  beds  in  some  part  of  its  course,  but  what  part  has 
not  yet  been  ascertained;  for  the  water  of  all  the  streams  and  springs 
that  flow  into  the  lake,  so  far  as  they  have  been  examined,  is  found  to  be 
"  soft,"  and  so  entirely  free  from  earthy  or  other  foreign  matter,  "  that 
the  daguerreotypist  finds  it  better  for  his  purposes  than  the  best  distilled 
water  of  the  chemist." 

Not  less  peculiar  is  the  atmosphere  around  and  over  the  lake,  which 
plays  strange  and  fantastic  tricks  in  the  f;ice  of  high  heaven,  seeming  to 
possess  a  life  and  spirit  strictly  in  unison  with  the  wonderful  expanse  of 
waters  that  lies  spread  out  below.  The  mirage  of  Lake  Superior  fills  the 
spectator  with  astonishment.  For  weeks  during  the  summer,  the  trav- 
eler along  the  shores  of  this  inland  sea,  may  be  gratified  by  a  view  of  the 
most  curious  phantasmagoria — images  of  mountains  and  islands  being 
vividly  represented  in  all  their  outlines,  with  their  tufts  of  evergreen 
trees,  precipices,  and  rocky  pinnacles,  all  inverted  in  the  air,  and  hanging 
high  over  their  terrestrial  originals,  and  then  again  repeated  upright  in 


REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR.  533 

another  picture  directly  above  the  inverted  one.  Rock  harbor,  in  Isle 
Koyale,  is  the  most  noted  locality  for  observing  these  phantasmagoria. 
But  the  mirage  is  not  confined  to  any  particular  part  of  the  lake.  Fre- 
quently, the  voyager,  long  before  he  has  hove  in  sight  of  land,  will  see 
the  coast  he  is  approaching  pictured  upon  the  skies  along  the  horizon;  and 
after  the  real  shore  has  appeared,  three  views  of  it  will  be  presented — 
two,  right  side  up,  according  to  the  order  of  creation;  and  the  middle 
one  bottom  upward.  Vessels  will  appear  to  be  sailing  in  the  air,  points 
of  land  bent  up  at  right-angles,  and  the  sun  at  setting  twisted  into 
astonishing  shapes. 

The  skies  and  the  waters  seem  to  harmonize  completely  together. 
While  the  sky  daguerreotypes  all  below,  the  water  catches  the  tints  of 
all  that  is  above,  and  the  ethereal  dome  is  caverned  in  the  deep.  Mr. 
Jackson,  United  States  geologist,  says  of  the  lake:  "The  color  of  the 
water,  effected  by  the  hues  of  the  sky,  and  holding  no  sediment  to  dim 
its  transparency,  presents  deeper  tints  than  are  seen  on  the  lower 
lakes — deep  tints  of  blue,  green,  and  red  prevailing,  according  to  the 
color  of  the  sky  and  clouds.  I  have  seen  at  sunset  the  surface  of  the 
lake  off  Isle  Royale  of  a  deep-claret  color — a  tint  much  richer  than  ever 
is  reflected  from  the  waters  of  other  lakes,  or  in  any  other  country  I 
have  visited." 

Lake  Superior,  unlike  Lake  Huron,  has  but  few  islands.     The  largest 
of   these   are    Grand    island,  situated    near   the    southern    shore,    132 
miles   west  of  St.  Mary's,  and  represented  to  have  a  deep   and  land- 
locked   harbor;    Middle  island,  toward  the    westerly  extremity   of  the 
lake,   near   the  group   of  Apostle  islands;  and    Isle    Royale,    near   the 
northern    shore,    and  within    the    jurisdiction    of    the    United    States. 
Isle  Royale  is  about  40  miles  long,  and  avei-ages  6  miles   in  width.     It 
is  a  most  interesting  ishind,  singularly  formed,  and  sending  out  long 
1    spits    of  rocks   into  the   lake    at  its  north-eastern   extremity;  while    at 
I    its    south-western    end,   it   shelves    off    far   into    the    lake,    presenting 
'    slightly-inclined  beds  of  red   sandstone;  the  tabular  sheets  of   which, 
I    for  miles  from  the  coast,  are  barely  covered  with  water,  and  offer  dan- 
I   gerous   shoals  and   reefs,  on  which  vessels,  and    even   boats,  would    be 
I   quickly    stranded,  if  they   endeavored    to   pass    near   the    shore."     But 

I  igneous  rocks  constitute  the  rocky  basis  of  more  than  four-fifths  of  the 
!   island,  and  in  those  portions  ot"  it  where  these  exist,  tlie  shores  are  pre- 
cipitous.    "  Bold    cliffs    of  columnar   trap    and   castellated  rocks,  with 

II  mural  escarpments,  sternly  present  themselves  to  the  surf,  and  defy  the 
\  storms.  The  waters  of  the  lake  are  deep  close  to  their  very  shores,  and 
jt  the  largest  ship  might  in  many  places  lie  close  to  the  rocks,  as  at  an 
p  artificial  pier." 

!  Isle  Royale  contains  a  great  number  of  beautiful  lakes,  the  largest  of 
which  is  Siskawit  lake,  on  the  southern  side,  near  Siskawit  bay.     It  is 

ji  also  surrounded  by  innumerable  small  islands,  which  cluster  close  to  its 
shores,  as  if  for  protection  from  the  waves.  Mr.  Jackson,  before  referred 
to,  gives  the  following  interesting  description  of  the  general  appearance 
of  Isle  Royale:  "Added  to  the  fantastic  irregularities  of  the  coast  and 


534  REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR, 

its  castlc-likc  islands — tlio  abrupt  elevation  of  the  hills  inland,  rising  liko 
almost  perpendicular  walls  from  the  shores  of  the  numerous  beautiful 
lakes  which  are  scattered  through  the  interior  of  the  island,  and  cor- 
responding with  lines  of  the  mountain  upheaval — we  observe  occasionally 
rude  crngs  detached  from  the  main  body  of  the  mountains,  and,  in  one 
place,  2  lofty  twin  towers,  standing  on  a  hillside,  and  rising  perpendic- 
ularly, like  huge  chimneys,  to  the  elevation  of  70  feet,  while  they  are 
surrounded  by  the  deep-green  foliage  of  the  primeval  forest." 

In  the  secluded  valleys  between  the  hills  of  the  Isle  Royale  there 
are  either  little  lakes,  or  swamps  filled  with  a  dense  growth  of  white 
cedars.  Upon  the  higher  lands,  the  timber  is  a  mixture  of  maple,  birch, 
spruce,  fir,  and  pine  trees,  which  are  of  thrifty  growth,  and  will  afford 
both  timber  and  fuel.  The  soil  of  more  than  nine-tenths  of  the  island 
is  formed  by  the  decomposition  of  the  trap  rocks;  and  such  a  soil  is 
well-known  to  be  warm  and  fertile.  In  the  lowlands,  the  springs  from 
the  hills  will  keep  the  soil  cold  and  wet;  but  if  properly  drained,  there 
is  DO  doubt  those  lands  might  be  cultivated,  and  would  produce  good 
crops.  Indeed,  this  is  said  to  have  been  proved  in  the  vicinity  of  Kock 
harbor,  where  the  lowland  soil,  which  was  originally  covered  with 
swamp-muck,  is  now  drained  and  made  productive. 

In  the  deep  shadow  of  the  crags,  and  in  some  of  the  thick  swamps  of 
cedar,  it  is  said  that  perennial  ice  has  been  found  upon  the  island;  and  on 
the  immediate  rocky  border  of  the  lake  shore,  the  influence  of  the  wintry 
winds  from  the  lake  is  strikingly  exemplified  in  the  stunted  growth  of 
the  fir  and  spruce  trees,  that  get  root  in  the  crevices  of  the  rocks.  Mr. 
Jackson  says  :  "  In  numerous  instances,  we  were  able  to  witness  the  joint 
effects  of  cold  air  and  a  limited  supply  of  soil,  in  retarding  the  growth 
of  trees,  and  giving  the  wood  an  extremely  fine  texture.  Small  trees 
have  sprung  up,  having  all  the  appearance  of  age  which  the  dwarfed 
trees  raised  by  the  ingenious  Chinese  gardener  are  known  to  present. 
Those  little  trees,  from  four  inches  to  afoot  high,  are  covered  with  mosses 
like  old  trees,  and  the  tiny  stem  presents  in  its  bark  and  wood,  the 
different  layers,  representing  many  seasons.  In  cutting  through  these 
little  trees,  they  were  found,  in  some  instances,  to  possess  40  different 
annual  rings;  and  the  wood  was  neai'ly  as  hard  as  boxwood,  and  as 
fine!" 

Rock  harbor,  on  the  southern  side  of  the  north-easterly  end  of  Isle 
Royale,  is  the  largest  and  most  beautiful  haven  on  Lake  Superior.  The 
bay  extends  about  4  miles  up  into  the  island.  The  water  is  deep 
enough  for  any  vessels,  and  the  harbor  is  perfectly  sheltered  from  every 
wind.  Around  its  entrance  are  numerous  islands,  that  stand  like  so 
many  rocky  castles  to  break  the  heavy  surges  of  the  lake.  "In  some  re- 
rspects  it  resembles  the  Bay  of  Naples,  with  Procida,  Capri,  and  Ischia  at  its 
entrance:  but  no  modern  volcano  completes  the  back-ground  of  the 
picture,  though  there  must  at  one  time  have  been  greater  eruptions  there 
than  ever  took  place  in  Italy." 

Lake  Superior  is  fed  by  about  eighty  streams,  which  are  represented 
to  be  not  navigable,  except  for  canoes,  owing  to  the  falls  and  rapids  with 


REGION  OF  LAKE  SUrERIOR.  535 

Trticli  they  abound.  The  principal  ones  that  flow  through  American 
territory  are  the  St.  Louis,  Montreal,  Presque  isle,  Arrow,  Little  Mon- 
treal, Ontr^nagon,  Eagle,  Sturgeon,  Huron,  Dead,  Carp,  Chocolate,  La 
Prairie,  TwO' hearted,  and  Tequamenon  rivers.  The  largest  of  these  are 
the  Ontonagon  and  Sturgeon  rivers,  which,  by  the  removal  of  some  ob- 
structions at  their  mouths,  and  the  construction  of  piers  to  prevent  the 
formation  of  bars,  might  be  converted  into  excellent  and  spacious 
harbors,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  some  of  the  most  valuable  mines, 
where  the  want  of  safe  anchorage  is  now  severely  felt ;  as  at  Eagle  har- 
bor, for  instance,  where  the  propellers  have  to  cast  anchor  over  a  hun- 
dreded  yards  out,  and  the  copper  intended  for  shipment  has  to  be  first 
placed  on  board  of  a  scow,  on  which  passengers  also  take  a  position,  and 
then  floated  out  to  the  propellers.  The  copper  is  raised  on  board  by 
means  of  a  crane,  which  is  stationary  upon  the  side  of  the  vessel. 

The  Twin  river,  or  Two-hearted  river,  as  it  is  called  by  the  traders, 
consists  in  the  union  of  two  separate  streams,  near  the  point  of  its 
outlet.  It  empties  into  the  lake  72  miles  westward  of  St.  Mary's.  A 
short  distance  beyond  Grand  island,  at  the  mouth  of  a  small  stream 
known  as  Laughing-fish  river,  a  curious  flux  and  reflux  of  the  water  is 
maintained,  similar  to  the  tides  of  the  ocean.  At  the  mouth  of  Chocolate 
river,  there  is  a  large  bay  setting  up  deep  into  the  shore,  which  requires 
a  day's  canoe-travel  to  circumnavigate  it.  Just  beyond  that,  the  traveler 
will  first  strike  the  old  crystaline  rocks,  or  primitive  formation.  From 
hence,  for  2  days'  travel  to  Huron  bay,  the  shores  presents  a  conti- 
nuous series  of  rough,  conical  peaks,  which  are  noted  for  immense  bodies 
of  iron  ore,  chiefly  in  the  condition  of  iron  glance,  from  which  the  exten- 
sive iron  works  of  Carp  river,  seated  at  the  foot  of  these  mountains,  are 
yielding  such  fine  blooms.  Continuing  on  westward  across  Keweenaw 
bay,  the  canoe  voyager  will  enter  Portage  lake,  embosomed  near  the 
base  of  Keweenaw  point,  and,  with  a  short  portage,  will  reach  the  lake 
west  of  the  point  without  the  toil  and  distance  of  circumnavigating  it. 
And,  in  doing  so,  he  will  observe  that  the  geology  of  the  country  has 
become  entirely  changed.  He  will  have  passed  into  the  midst  of  a 
region  of  trap-dike — the  great  copper-bearing  rock  of  Lake  Superior. 
Passing  onward  along  the  lake,  the  dim-blue  outlines  of  the  Porcupine 
mountains  will  rise  to  view  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon,  directly  ahead. 
These  mountains,  on  a  clear  day,  may  be  seen  from  a  distance  of  sixty 
miles.  Soon  the  voyager  will  be  seen  traversing  the  entrance  of  Little 
Salmon,  Graverod,  Misery,  and  Firesteel  rivers,  to  the  mouth  of  Ontonagon 
river,  where  a  large  body  of  water  enters  the  lake ;  but  the  mouth  of  the 
river  is  very  much  obstructed  by  a  sand-bar.  There,  likewise,  may  be 
observed  another  of  those  curious  refluxes,  where  the  water,  impeded  and 
damned  up  by  gales,  reacts  with  unusual  force. 


536 


REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 


The  following  table  of  distances  is  made  up  from  the  statements  ofvoy- 
agcrs,  and  is  supposed  to  he  exaggerated  hy  about  one-third,  as  that 
class  of  men  always  pride  themselves  on  going  long  distances.  Never- 
theless, the  table  may  be  of  value: 


RAHE3   or   PLACES. 


L 


From  Micliiliniackinac  to  Detour 

Sault  Ste.  Marie 

Point  aiix  Pius 

Point  Iroquois,  entrance  to  Lake  Superior, 

Tequamenon  river 

Shelldrake  river 

White-fish  Point 

Two-hearted  river 

Grand  Marrais 

La  Point  la  Grand  Sables 

Pictured  Rocks 

Miner's  river 

Grand  Island 

River  aux  Trains '. . . . 

Isle  aux  Trains 

Laughing-tlsh  river 

Chocolate  river 

Dead  river,  and  Presque  Isle  bay 

Granite  point 

Galic  river 

St.  John's  river 

Salmon  river 

Pine  river 

Huron  river 

East  Cape  of  Keweenaw  bay 

Mouth  of  Portage  river 

Head  of  Portage  river 

Lake  Superior,  at  the  end  of  the  Portage.. 

Little  Salmon  river 

Graverod  river 

Misery  river 

Firesteel  river -. . 

Ontonagon  river 


40 

45 

6 

9 

15 

9 

9 

24 

21 

9 

12 

6 

12 

9 

3 

6 

15 

6 

6 

9 

15 

12 

6 

9 

6 

31 

24 

1 

9 

6 

12 

18 

5 


85 
91 
100 
115 
124 
133 
1.57 
178 
167 
199 
205 
217 
226 
229 
235 
250 
256 
262 
271 
286 
298 
304 
313 
319 
340 
364 
365 
374 
380 
392 
410 
416 


In  crossing  the  St.  Mary's  strait,  from  Point  aux  Pius  to  Point  Iroquois, 
the  first  view  of  Lake  Superior  is  to  be  had,  affording  one  of  the  most 
pleasing  prospects  in  the  world.  The  St.  Mary's  river  passes  out  of  the 
lake  between  two  prominent  capes,  viz  :  Gros  cape  and  Point  Iroquois. 
The  former  rises  up  in  high,  barren  peaks,  of  hornblende  rock ;  the 
latter  consists  of  elevated  masses  of  red  sandstone,  covered  with  a  dense 
forest. 

The  La  Grand  Sables  is  an  interesting  feature  of  the  lake  coast.  The 
shore  consists  of  "  several  heavy  strata  of  the  drift  era,  reaching  a  hight 
of  200  or  oOO  feet,  with  a  precipitous  front  on  the  lake.  The  sands, 
driven  up  by  the  waters,  are  blown  over  these  hights,  forming  a 
heavy  deposit.  It  is  this  sandy  deposit,  falling  down  the  face  of  the 
precipice,   that  appears   to   convert   the  whole   formation   into  dunes, 


EEGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR.  537 

•whereon  the  sandy  coating  rests  like  a  vail.  The  number  of  rapacious 
birds  which  are  observed  about  these  bights,  adds  to  the  interest  of  the 
prospect. 

The  pictured  rocks  of  Lake  Superior  will  always  attract  the  attention 
of  the  tourist.  That  coast  of  rocks  is  twelve  miles  in  length,  consisting 
of  a  gray  sandstone,  and  presenting  perpendicular  walls,  which  have  been 
worn  by  the  waves  into  pillared  masses  and  cavernous  arches.  These 
caverns  yawn  into  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and  the  winds  howl  and  the 
waves  roar  around  their  mouths.  A  small  river  leaps  from  the  top  of  the 
precipice  clear  into  the  lake.  At  one  place  the  "  Doric  Rock,"  a  vast 
entablature,  rests  on  two  immense  water-worn  pillars.  At  another  place, 
the  precipice  has  been  completely  undermined,  so  that  it  rests  solely  on 
a  single  massive  column,  standing  in  the  water.  The  dark-red  clay, 
overlaying  the  rocks  above,  has  been  washed  by  the  rains  down  the  face 
of  the  precipice,  and,  being  blended  with  the  sand  and  dust  blown  about 
by  the  winds,  presents  a  pictorial  appearance.  Schoolcraft  says  :  "  We 
almost  held  our  breath  in  passing  that  coast." 

The  Ontonagon  river,  for  4  miles  up  from  its  mouth,  is  bro<9  and 
deep,  having  a  gentle  current,  flowing  through  a  winding  channel, 
between  banks  that  are  heavily  wooded,  the  dark -green  foliage  overhang- 
ing the  water.  A  long,  narrow  island  divides  the  river  into  two  chan- 
nels, through  which  the  current  flows  slowly  and  tranquilly  to  the  lake. 
The  stream  above  is  broken  by  frequent  rapids.  The  soil  of  the 
Ontonagon,  near  its  mouth,  is  coarse  and  sandy ;  but  it  is  said  to  be 
productive  of  garden  vegetables.  Further  up  the  river  the  soil  becomes 
clayey  and  loamy  —  very  suitable  for  cultivation.  Several  mining 
companies  have  locations  on  this  river ;  but  at  its  mouth  the  land  is 
reserved  for  the  use  of  the  government.  The  banks  are  from  7  to 
10  feet  high,  supporting  a  fine  growth  of  elm,  whitewood,  sugar- 
maple,  birch,  spruce,  white-pine,  and  cedar ;  also,  gooseberries  and 
raspberries. 

The  Montreal  river  forms  the  boundary  between  Michigan  and  Wis- 
consin. It  presents  many  attractions  for  the  admirers  of  picturesque 
scenery,  and  exhibits  the  most  beautiful  waterfalls  anywhere  to  be  found 
along  the  entire  coast  of  Lake  Superior.  A  little  way  above  its  mouth, 
and  within  sight  of  the  lake,  the  red  sandstone  rocks  have  a  northerly 
dip  of  70  degrees;  and  over  this  ledge,  the  river  is  precipitated  80  feet,  into 
a  deep  circular  basin  the  sides  of  which  have  been  excavated  by  the  rush- 
ing waters  into  a  spacious  amphitheater.  About  3  miles  further  up  the 
river,  in  a  direct  line  from  the  lake,  is  a  second  waterfall,  said  to  be 
fully  as  beautiful  as  the  first. 

Sturgeon  river  rises  in  the  country  to  the  south  of  the  head  of  Kewee- 
naw bay;  and,  running  northerly,  empties  into  Portage  lake.  This 
lake  is  connected  with  Superior  by  Portage  river,  which  may  be  ascended 
by  vessels  drawing  8  feet  of  water,  and  to  the  head  of  the  lake, 
20  miles  inland.  Those  streams,  together  with  the  Montreal  river, 
are  famous  for  their  sturgeon  fisheries.  All  the  rivers  tliat  flow  into 
Lake  Superior,  at  a  little  distance  inland,  become  very  rapid,  broken  by 
frecjuent  waterfalls,  furnishing  water-power  in  great  abundance.      The 


538  REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 

liights  of  laud  between  Portage  lake  aud  Montreal  river  vary  from  600 
feet  to  1,300  feet  in  hight. 

The  Superior  country  is  celebrated  alike  for  its  iron,  its  copper,  and  its 
silver.  It  can  never  become  much  of  an  agricultural  country  ;  but  its 
mineral  resources  are  very  great,  beyond  the  power  of  calculation.  The 
country  has  been  explored  just  sufficiently  to  enable  us  to  form  a  mere 
rough  guess  as  to  its  capability  of  producing  the  most  valuable  metals  in 
constant  use  by  man.  The  iron  occupies  a  region  distinct  bj'  itself. 
The  copper  and  silver  are  fouud  blended  together. 

The  iron  region  of  Lake  Superior,  no  less  than  the  copper  region,  is 
one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world.  It  commences  along  the  coast  of  the 
lake,  with  the  metamorphic  rocks,  extending  from  the  Chocolate  river  to 
the  Dead  river,  a  distance  of  10  miles,  following  the  shore,  and  sweeps 
away  southerly  and  westerly  across  the  branches  of  the  Menominee 
river — the  Machi-gamig  and  the  Brule — and  the  Sturgeon  river,  and  the 
Esconaba  river,  that  empties  into  Little  Bay  de  ^ioquet,  near  the  head 
of  Green  bay.  Now,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  Chocolate  river 
comes  into  Lake  Superior  from  the  south-east,  and  the  Dead  river  from 
the  west.  On  the  meridian  intersecting  the  mouth  of  the  Dead  river, 
the  iron-bearing  rocks  extend  directly  south  more  than  11  miles; 
and  on  that  of  the  Jackson  forge,  9  miles  west  of  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  the  iron  region  is  some  14  miles  in  width.  Its  western  limit  has 
not  been  determined ;  but  it  must  be  far  within  the  borders  of  Wiscon- 
sin, having  been  traced  in  that  direction  nearly  100  miles.  The  nor- 
thern limit  is  nearly  on  a  line  drawn  due  west  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Dead  river.  The  southerly  limit  also,  from  the  Chocolate  river,  runs 
pretty  much  straight  west,  till  beyond  the  Esconaba,  where  it  turns  off 
south  along  the  Machi-gamig,  and  crosses  the  Menominee.  There  the 
width  of  the  iron  region  is  known  to  be  more  than  50  miles.  This 
valuable  mineral  tract  has  been  but  partially  explored,  and  no  sufficient 
data  have  been  furnished  to  estimate  exactly  its  area. 

There  is  the  most  abundant  authority,  however,  for  saying,  that  the 
iron  of  the  Superior  country  is  both  rich  and  inexhaustible.  The  fol- 
lowing statements,  condensed  from  the  reports  made  by  the  persons  en- 
gaged in  the  United  States  geological  survey  of  the  mineral  lands,  will 
convey  some  idea  of  the  extent  and  quality  of  the  ore. 

The  first  bed  of  magnetic  ore  is  situated  near  the  Menominee  river, 
and  in  the  direction  of  Fort  river,  a  branch  of  the  Esconaba,  at  the  cor- 
ner of  townships  41  and  42,  north,  and  between  ranges  29  and  30, 
west.  It  was  found  in  a  low  ridge,  some  3  chains  in  width,  which  ap- 
peared to  be  one  mass  of  iron  ore,  stratified  and  jointed.  The  ore  has 
generally  a  granular  structure;  color,  iron-black,  passing  into  steel-gray; 
luster,  when  fresh  broken,  metallic,  but  soon  oxydizes,  upon  exposure 
to  the  atmosphere. 

The  second  bed  of  ore  is  situated  on  the  east  boundary  of  township 
46  north,  range  30  west,  sections  1  and  6,  along  the  south-western  shore 
of  a  small  lake,  in  the  Machi-gamig  river.  The  extent  of  this  bed  of 
ore  is  unknown;  but  it  borders  that  side  of  the  lake,  from  20  to  50 
feet  in  hight.     The  ore  is  likewise  stratified  and  jointed,  so  that  it  may 


REGION"  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR.  539 

be  quarried  with  ease.  In  color  and  luster  it  resembles  the  first — 
fresh  fractures  appearing  like  fine-grained  cast-iron.  Now,  this  bed 
of  ore  extends  along  through  a  range  of  hills  on  the  north-easterly  side 
also  of  that  lake,  to  an  unknown  extent,  and  in  a  mass  so  great  as  to 
stagger  belief.  Let  the  surveyor  speak  for  himself:  "The  river  here 
forms  a  lake-like  expansion,  and  is  bounded  on  the  north-east  by  a  range 
of  hills,  which  rise  abruptly  to  the  bight  of  200  feet  above  the  water. 
We  explored  this  ridge,  and  found  that  it  was  composed,  for  the  most 
part,  of  nearly  pure  specular  oxyd  of  iron.  It  shoots  up  in  a  perpendic- 
ular cliff",  113  feet  in  hight,  so  pure,  that  it  is  difficult  to  determine  its 
mineral  associations.  We  passed  along  the  base  of  this  cliff"  for  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  seeking  for  a  gap,  through  which  we  might 
pass  and  gain  the  summit.  At  length,  and  by  clambering  from  one 
point  to  another,  we  succeeded.  Passing  along  the  brow  of  the  cliff', 
40  feet,  the  mass  was  comparatively  pure;  then  succeeded  a  bed  of 
quartz,  composed  of  grounded  grains,  with  small  specks  of  iron  dissemi- 
nated, and  large,  rounded  masses  of  the  same  material  inclosed,  consti- 
tuting a  conglomerate.  This  bed  was  15  feet  in  thickness,  and  wa.^ 
succeeded  again  by  specular  iron,  exposed  in  places  to  the  width  of 
100  feet;  but  the  soil  and  trees  prevented  our  determining  its  entire 
width.  This  one  cliff  contains  iron  sufficient  to  supply  the  world  for  ages; 
yet  we  saw  neither  its  length  nor  its  width,  but  only  an  outline  of  the  mass." 

It  may  be  proper  here  to  suggest,  that  the  best  possible  use  that  can 
be  made  of  the  capital  afloat  in  the  importing  trade,  would  be  to  make 
one  more  investment  in  English  railroad  iron,  to  lay  a  track  from  Green 
bay  up  the  Esconaba  river,  which  reaches  within  a  mile  of  this  mountain 
of  iron,  and  make  it  accessible.  Whoever  will  do  this,  will  do  more  to 
promote  the  wealth  of  the  country  than  ever  has  yet  been  done  by  open- 
ing mines;  for  iron  is  the  most  valuable  mineral  on  the  continent,  despite 
the  copper  further  north,  and  the  gold  of  California.  Set  this  native 
mountain  of  ore  once  to  running,  and  it  will  flow  throughout  the  earth, 
superseding  the  iron  of  all  other  countries. 

The  third  bed  of  ore  is  situated  on  th^  east  boundary  of  township  47 
north,  range  29  west,  near  section  13,  in  another  cliff,  facing  south- 
west, and  varying  from  20  to  50  feet  in  hight.  The  ore  is  stratified 
and  jointed,  and  in  quality  similar  to  the  other  beds.  The  extent  of 
this  bed  is  likewise  unknown.  13  chains  distant,  south-south-west 
from  the  main  mass,  on  the  shore  of  a  pond,  the  ore  rises  above  the 
surface  in  the   form  of  a  knob,  30  feet  in  hight. 

The  fourth  bed  of  ore  is  near  the  south  boundary  of  township  48  north, 
range  28  west,  on  section  4,  consisting  of  a  knob  of  iron  50  feet  in  hight. 

The  fifth  bed  of  ore  is  in  the  next  township  west  of  the  fourth 
bed,  on  section  32,  consisting  of  a  ridge  of  iron  ore  8  feet  in  hight. 
It  was  traced  75  chains.  This  bed  is  very  extensive,  and  highly  mag- 
netic.    In   quality   it  is   similar   to   the    others. 

In  this  manner  the  surveyors  proceed  to  enumerate  ore-bed  after  ore- 
bed,  throughout  the  various  townships  of  that  great  mineral  tract.  The 
foregoing  is  probably  sufficient  to  satisfy  the  reader  of  exhaustless  beds 
of  that  ore  in  the  Superior  country.     With  the  mention  of  one  more  ore- 


540  REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 

bed,  this  enumeration  shall  cease.  It  is  referred  to  because  it  is  much 
nearer  the  Chocolate  river  than  the  others,  being  directly  south  of  the 
Jackson  furnace  6  miles,  in  township  47,  range  2G,  sections  29,  30, 
31,  and  32.  There  are  2  hills  of  the  ore,  made  up  almost  entirely  of 
granulated,  magnetic,  or  specular  iron,  with  small  quantities  of  spathous 
and  micaceous  iron.  The  more  northerly  hill  extends  east  and  west 
full  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  is  over  1,000  feet  in  width — a  single  mass 
of  ore.  The  ore  breaks  readily  into  subrhomboidal  fragments,  in  such 
manner  as  will  greatly  facilitate  the  operations  of  mining. 

In  conclusion,  the  geologists  say  :  "This  iron  region  is  the  most  val- 
uable and  extensive  in  the  world  for  the  manufacture  of  the  finer  varie- 
ties of  wrought-iron  and  steel.  When  we  consider  the  immense  extent 
of  the  district,  the  mountain  masses  of  the  ore,  its  purity  and  adaptation 
to  the  manufacture  of  the  most  valuable  kinds  of  iron,  and  the  immense 
forrests  which  cover  the  surface,  suitable  for  charcoal,  this  district  may 
be  pronounced  unrivaled.  The  ore  consists  mainly  of  the  specular,  or 
peroxyd  of  iron,  an  admixture  of  the  fine-grained  magnetic.  In  some 
instances,  the  whole  ridge  or  knob,  appears  to  consist  of  one  mass  of 
pure  ore — so  pure  that  no  selection  is  required;  but  an  unlimited  quan- 
tity might  be  quarried  or  picked  up  in  loose  blocks  around  the  slopes. 
In  others,  the  ore  is  mixed  with  seams  of  quartz  or  jasper,  which  ren- 
ders it  less  valuable,  and  requires  some  care  for  the  selection.  The  iron 
in  such  cases  presents  a  banded  or  contorted  structure,  or  alternating 
seams  of  steel-gray,  and  brilliant  red.  The  appearance  of  a  mountain 
clifi"  thus  made  up,  is  extraordinary.  The  iron  mountain  of  Missouri 
becomes  insignificant  when  compared  with  these  immense  deposits." 

The  surveyors  report  some  good  agricultural  lands  in  this  district.  The 
following  table  will  show  the  location  of  them,  viz.: 

Townships  42  north,  in  ranges  32,  33,  34,  and  35,  west. 
Townships  43  north,  in  ranges  32,  33,  34,  and  35,  west. 
Townships  47  north,  in  ranges  27  and  28,  west. 
Townships  48  north,  in  ranges  27  and  28,  west. 
Townships  49  north,  in  ranges  32,  33,  34,  and  35,  west. 
Townships  50  north,  in  ranges  29,  30,  31,  32,  33,  34,  and  35,  west. 

These  tracts  of  fertile  land  will  become  of  great  value,  when  the  rivers 
shall  have  been  opened,  and  a  mining  population  introduced,  creating  a 
sure  and  convenient  home-market  for  the  productions  of  the  farm. 

This  bountiful  iron  region,  in  most  part,  sustains  a  heavy  growth  of 
maple,  birch,  pine,  and  oak  timber;  and  the  streams,  numerous  and 
rapid,  supply  any  amount  of  water-power.  If  a  railroad  was  constructed 
from  Little  Bay  de  Noquet,  on  Green  bay,  to  Keweenaw  bay,  on  Lake 
Superior,  a  distance  of  110  miles,  through  the  heart  of  the  iron  region, 
those  extensive  ore-beds  would  be  left  no  longer  unoccupied  and  use- 
less. It  would  seem  to  be  like  ofiering  an  indignity  to  Providence  to 
neglect  the  development  of  such  magnificent  resources,  placed  within  the 
borders  of  the  United  States. 

Next  in  importance  after  the  iron,  is  the  copper  of  the  Superior 
country.    The  region  where  that  metal  is  found,  along  the  southern  shore 


REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR,  541 

of  the  lake,  is  described  as  follows,  by  Messrs.  Foster  and  Whitney,  United 
States  geologists:  "The  examination  of  a  great  number  of  localities  has 
demonstrated  that  the  veins  of  copper  and  its  ores,  in  the  sandstone 
and  conglomerate,  are  not  to  be  relied  on,  and  that  when  worked,  even 
to  an  inconsiderable  depth,  they  give  out.  Although  copper  is  found  at 
short  intervals,  from  the  Pictured  rocks  to  the  Montreal  river,  in  this 
rock,  yet  we  have  designated  no  tract  in  it  as  mineral  land.  As  all  the 
productive  lodes  are  confined  to  the  ranges  of  trap,  all  of  the  mineral 
tracts  designated  lie  within  those  ranges.  What  is  generally  known  as 
the  trap-range,  consists  of  a  belt  of  igneous  rocks,  composed  for  the 
most  part  of  hornblende  and  feldspar,  which  in  places  have  broken 
through  the  sandstones,  tilting  them  up  at  high  angles;  but  oftner  are 
found  in  alternating  beds,  having  the  same  dip  as  the  detrital  rocks. 
The  trap  range  extends  from  Montreal  river — the  western  boundary  of 
the  district — and  disappears  in  the  lake  at  the  extremity  of  Keweenaw 
point.  Its  general  course  is  a  little  north  of  east,  preserving  a  pretty 
uniform  parallelism  with  the  southern  coast  of  Lake  Superior.  Its 
width  varies  from  two  miles  to  twelve.  Throughout  this  range — nearly 
one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  extent — copper,  mostly  native,  is  dissemi- 
nated, but  more  profusely  in  some  places  than  others.  In  fact,  there 
may  be  said  to  exist  two  centers  of  metallic  riches,  around  each  of  which 
copper  has  been  accumulated  in  considerable  quantity,  but  under  cir- 
cumstances somewhat  different.  The  one  may  be  designated  as  the 
Keweenaw  point  center,  which  has  a  system  of  veins  cutting  across  the 
trap-range.  The  other  may  be  designated  as  the  Ontonagon  center  j 
and  here  the  veins  preserve  a  certain  parallelism  with  the  ranges,  or 
run  with  the  formation." 

The  red  sandstone  and  conglomerate  rocks  of  Keweenaw  point  un- 
doubtedly existed  long  before  the  trap-rocks  were  pushed  up  through 
them,  and  were  produced  by  the  deposition  of  fine  sand  and  pebbles  in 
water;  for  the  ripple  marks  are  well  preserved,  and  record  this  fact  in 
the  most  absolute  and  positive  manner.  It  is  supposed  that,  by  pres- 
sure and  heat,  the  materials  of  a  loose,  shifting  sand,  became  converted 
into  a  solid  sandstone,  the  layers  of  sand  formiug  the  diflferent  strata. 
Previous  to  the  action  of  the  disturbing  forces  from  beneath,  the  sand- 
stone must  have  been  composed  in  horizontal  layers,  as  water  necessarily 
deposits  a  mechanical  sediment  in  that  manner.  But  the  sandstone  has 
been  broken  through  by  the  trap-rocks,  and  elevated  at  considerable 
angles  along  the  line  of  its  disruption.  It  is  plain,  that  the  forcing  of 
a  melted  mass  of  rocks  up  through  such  a  sedimentary  strata  must  havo 
exerted  a  powerful  influence  upon  the  sediment  itself.  Accordingly,  ifc 
vis  found,  at  Keweenaw  point,  that  a  chemical  combination  took  place, 
of  the  material  of  the  sandstone  with  the  material  of  the  trap  rocka, 
along  the  line  of  junction,  resulting  in  the  formation  of  an  amygdaloid 
rock.  And  between  the  sandstone  and  the  trap  is  found  a  mass  of 
broken,  indurated  sandstone,  scoria  of  fused  trap  and  sandstone,  amyg- 
daloidal  and  compact  trap,  and  porphyry;  which  together  form,  when 
re-cemented  by  heat,  a  rock  known  as  trap-tuff  or  breccia.  Near  Eagle 
river,  the  trap  breccias  occupy  a  considerable  space  between  the  sand- 


542  REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 

stone  aid  the  amygdaloid;  and  some  have  mistaken  them  for  a  conglo- 
merate of  the  sandstones  in  that  vicinity.  And  wiien  the  trap  rocks 
conjoin  with  the  sandstone,  the  former  is  found  to  be  amygdaloid.il,  and 
the  cavities  generally  filled  with  chlorite,  in  particled  varying  in  size 
from  a  pea  to  a  walnut.  In  one  portion,  it  has  been  noticed  that  when- 
ever a  cavity  is  filled  with  chlorite,  a  granule  of  copper  will  be  found 
concealed  in  its  center;  but  nearer  the  copper  veins  the  cavities  are 
oftener  filled  with  pure  copper  or  silver,  or  with  both  those  metals. 
One  of  the  most  surprising  features  of  the  trap  region  of  Lake  Superior 
is  the  occurrence  of  veins  of  solid  metallic  copper,  admixed  with  native 
silver,  and  yet  not  alloyed  with  it.  Two  veins  occurring  in  a  stratified 
rock  generally  traverse  the  strata  at  a  considerable  angle,  and  are  more 
regular  than  those  which  run  parallel  to  the  layers,  possessing  well- 
defined  walls,  and  often  incrusted  with  vein-stone,  prchnite,  quartz,  and 
calcareous  spar.  The  rocky  fissure  is  filled  with  vein-stones  of  different 
kinds,  which,  together  with  the  accompanying  minerals,  constitute  the 
lode.  Sometimes  the  veins,  at  the  surface,  are  composed  entirely  of 
prehnite,  and  contain  only  minute  specks  of  copper  inclosed  in  the 
crystals,  or  sparsely  scattered  throughout  the  mass.  Beneath  this  cover- 
ing of  vein-stones  is  found  the  solid  metallic  copper  of  Lake  Superior. 

The  rocks   of  the   copper  region   have  been  elevated  to  an  angle  of 
about  forty  degrees,  inclining  to  the   north-west,  by  the  terrific   forces 
that  injected  the  molten  copper  throughout  their  cracks  and  crevices. 
Along  the  hillsides,  where,  by  reason  of  this  angular  elevation,  the  rocks 
are  made  to  out-crop  the  superincumbent  masses  of  decayed  rock,  and 
other  accumulations,  have  been  washed  away  by  the  action  of  torrents ; 
and  the  metal,  in  some  places,  appears   at  the  surface.     Some  of  those 
points,  where  the   copper  is   thus  exposed,  would  secern  to  have  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  Indians,  long  bef  )re  any  white  man  ever  trod  the 
bleak  and  sterile   shores   of  Lake  Superior.     Along  the  banks   of  the 
Ontonagon  river  have  been  found  the  ancient  mines,  to  which  the  tribes 
must  have  resorted  for  a  supply  of  copper  for  the  manufacture  of  tools 
and  ornaments.     The  metal  was  very  highly  prized  by  them;  and  pieces 
of  native   copper  were   treasured   up  with  great  care,  and   used   as  an 
article  of  traffic.     It  is  evident  that  the  aboriginal  miners  were  not  more 
advanced  toward  civilization  than  the  Indians  generally;  because  the 
mining  and  other  implements,  found  on  the  Ontonagon  in  the  ancient 
excavations,    are   precisely  similar  to   those   which   are  known  to  have 
been  in  use  among  the  tribes  of  the  Atlantic  coast.    The  stone-hammers, 
made  of  oval  pebbles,  groved  about  the  mindle  for  withes,  which  formed 
the  handles,  were  the   native  instruments  for   breaking  out  pieces   of 
copper  on  Lake  Superior,  and  for   breaking   the  hard  rocks  of  Moose- 
head  lake  for  the  arrow  and  spear-heads  of  the  eastern   Indians.     Such 
hammers,  together  with  half-finished  stone  scalpiug-knives,  have   been 
found  both   at  Ontonagon  and  at  Eagle  river.     The  Indian  miner  also 
assisted  the  operation  of  breaking  the  rocks  by  kindling  fires  upon  them; 
and  hence   the   origin   of  the  charred  brands  and  coal  that  have  been 
found  around  the  battered  and  beaten  projections  of  copper. 

The  Lake  Superior  was  greatly  reverenced  by  the  Indians  inhabiting 


REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR.  543 

ita  shores  at  the  time  of  the  early  explorations  of  the  Jesuit  mission- 
aries. Claude  Allouez  says,  respecting  this  superstition  :  "The  savages 
respect  this  lake  as  a  divinity,  and  make  sacrifices  to  it;  on  account 
perhaps,  of  its  magnitude,  for  it  is  200  leagues  long  and  80  wide; 
or  on  account  of  its  goodness  in  furnishing  them  with  fishes,  which 
nourish  all  these  people,  where  there  is  but  little  game.  There 
are  often  found  beneath  the  water  pieces  of  copper,  all  formed,  and  of 
the  weight  of  10  and  20  pounds.  I  have  seen  them  many  times  in 
the  hands  of  the  savages;  and  as  they  are  superstitious,  they  keep  them 
as  so  many  divinities,  or  as  presents  from  the  gods  beneath  the  water, 
who  have  given  them  as  pledges  of  good  fortune.  On  that  account, 
they  keep  the  pieces  of  copper  enveloped  among  their  most  precious 
furniture.  There  are  some  who  have  preserved  them  for  more  than  fifty 
years,  and  others  who  have  had  them  in  their  families  from  time  im- 
memorial, and  cherish  them  as  household  gods." 

The  first  Englishman  that  ever  visited  the  copper  region  was  Alex- 
ander Henry,  who,  after  having  his  hair  almost  started  out  of  his  head 
at  the  frightful  massacre  of  Michilimackinac,  continued  in  the  Superior 
country  for  several  years,  poking  about  among  its  ravines  and  precipices 
with  a  most  refreshing  indifference  to  danger.  One  or  two  extracts  from 
his  journal  will  show  what  he  saw  there. 

"On  the  19th  of  August,  1765,  we  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Ontona- 
gon river,  one  of  the  largest  on  the  south  side  of  the  lake.  At  the 
mouth  was  an  Indian  village;  and  3  leagues  above,  a  fall,  at  the  foot 
of  which  sturgeon,  at  this  season,  were  obtained  so  abundant,  that  a 
month's  subsistence  for  a  regiment  could  have  been  taken  in  a  few 
hours.  But  I  found  this  river  chiefly  remarkable  for  the  abundance  of 
virgin  copper  which  is  on  its  banks  and  in  its  neighborhood. 

"  On  my  way  back  to  Michilimackinac,  I  encamped  a  second  time  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Ontonagon  river,  and  now  took  the  opportunity  of 
going  10  miles  up  the  river  with  Indian  guides.  The  object  for  which 
I  most  expressly  went,  and  to  which  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  being  led, 
was  a  mass  of  copper  of  the  weight,  according  to  my  estimate,  of  no  less 
than  five  tons.  Such  was  its  pure  and  malleable  state,  that,  with  an  ax, 
I  was  able  to  cut  off  a  portion  weighing  a  hundred  pounds.  On  view- 
ing the  surrounding  surface,  I  conjectured  that  the  mass,  at  some  period 
or  other,  had  rolled  down  the  side  of  a  lofty  hill  which  r'oes  at  its  back." 
This  copper  rock  has  been  removed  to  Washington,  and  may  now  be 
seen  lying  on  the  ground  near  the  War  Department. 

That  same  enterprising  explorer  was  also  the  first  to  organize  a  Lake 
Superior  Mining  Company.  In  1770,  Messrs.  Baxter,  Bostwick,  an 
Henry  built  a  barge  at  Point  aux  Pius,  and  laid  the  keel  of  a  sloop  of 
forty  tons.  They  were  in  search  of  gold  and  silver,  and  expected  to 
make  their  fortunes.  The  other  partners  in  England  were  "  His  lloyal 
Highness,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester;  Mr.  Secretary  Townshend;  Sir 
Samuel  Tuchet,  Bart.;  Mr.  Baxter,  counsel  of  the  Empress  of  Russia; 
and  Mr.  Cruikshank :  In  America,  Sir  William  Johnson,  Bart.;  Mr. 
Bostwick ;  Mr.  Baxter,  and  myself.  A  charter  had  been  petitioned  for 
and  obtained ;  but,  owing  to  our  ill  succesS;  it  was  never  taken  from  the 

35 


544  REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 

seal-office."  Mr.  Baxter  sold  the  sloop  and  other  effects  of  the  company, 
and  paid  its  debts,  which  certainly  was  a  most  commendable  feature  of 
their  operations.  Lake  Superior  seems  then  to  have  been  abandoned, 
and  its  mineral  resources  forgotten. 

Since  1845,  public  attention  has  been  again  drawn  toward  the  Su- 
perior country.  Its  mineral  lands  have  been  surveyed,  affording  tolera- 
bly accurate  information  of  the  localities  where  the  ores  of  copper,  and 
iron,  and  silver  abound.  A  large  number  of  mining  companies  have 
been  organized,  and  some  of  them  have  gone  into  successful  operation. 
It  has  been  stated  that  there  are  forty-one  companies  carrying  on  mining 
operations  at  Keweenaw  point  alone,  among  which  are  the  following : 
Northwest,  Siskowit,  Algonquin,  Piscataqua,  Ontonogon,  Bohemia, 
Chesapeake,  and  Cade — eight  having  their  offices  in  Philadelphia ;  the 
Pittsburgh  and  Boston,  Northwestern,  North  American,  Iron  City, 
Eureka,  Ohio  Trap  Bock,  Colling,  Ohio,  Aztec,  Adventure,  BiJge,  and 
Fire-Steel — twelve,  having  their  offices  at  Pittsburg;  the  Minnesota, 
Norwich,  Wheal  Kate,  Albion,  and  Forest — five,  with  their  offices  in  New 
York  ;  the  Copper  Falls,  Phoenix,  Winthrop,  Dana,  Douglass  Houghton, 
Quincy,  Alcomah,  Farm,  and   Toltec — nine  with  their  offices  in  Boston. 

The  belt  of  the  trap  rocks  on  Keweenaw  point  is  3  miles  in  width, 
in  its  narrowest  part,  7  miles  in  its  widest.  It  underlies  7  townships, 
or,  more  exactly,  217  sections  of  land,  between  Portage  lake  and  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  promotory.  It  is  exceedingly  rich  in  copper  and  silver. 
The  country  is  broken,  hilly,  and  irregular,  and  very  much  cut  up  by  the 
streams.  The  soil  is  represented  to  be  of  an  excellent  quality — warm  and 
fertile,  as  trappean  soils  generally  are ;  and  is  covered  with  a  heavy  growth 
of  hard- wood  forest  trees  with  some  soft-wood.  The  forests  are  more  open 
than  those  on  the  adjacent  sandstone  rocks,  and  the  timber  is  more  thrifty. 
The  appearance  of  the  trap-rock  is  quite  singular;  for  the  melted  mass, 
when  it  was  forced  up  from  below,  did  not  burst  out  in  circular  spaces,  or 
through  cylindrical  chimneys,  like  lava  eruptions  of  modern  times ;  but 
intruded  itself  through  chasms  and  fractures  of  the  superincumbent 
rocks,  frequently  overflowing  them,  and  spreading  out  between  the  strata, 
and  existing  as  intervening  masses,  or  beds. 

At  the  Lake  Superior  Company's  mines,  shaft  number  2,  passing 
into  the  western  side  of  the  vein,  was  very  rich  in  copper  and  silver  at 
the  surface,  where  it  immediately  bordered  upon  the  leader,  and  impover- 
ished as  it  left  it  in  descending.  So,  after  working  downward,  for  a 
time,  through  barren  rock,  "  the  miners  sent  off  a  level  toward  the  river, 
with  the  intention  of  striking  the  vein  under  the  stream ;  but,  to  their 
great  surprise,  opened  into  a  deep  and  wide  ravine,  or  ancient  channel 
of  the  river,  filled  with  great  masses  of  copper,  lumps  of  copper  and 
silver  mixed,  small  globules  of  pure  silver — all  rounded  and  worn  by  the 
action  of  running  water,  and  mixed  with  sand,  gravel,  and  pebbles.  A 
single  mass  of  silver  was  obtained  from  this  ravine,  which  weighed  more 
than  six  pounds,  and  was  worth  S130.  That  lump  of  siver  is  now  in  the 
cabinet  of  the  United  States  Mint,  at  Philadelphia.  Masses  of  copper 
were  also  found  in  that  ravine,  weighing  1,000  pounds.  These  were 
exported  tc»  France. 


REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR.  545 

The  Cliff  Mine,  belonging  to  the  Boston  and  Pittsburg  Mining  Com- 
pany, is  situated  on  the  south-west  branch  of  Eagle  river,  3  miles 
from  the  office  of  the  Lake  Superior  Company.  "The  Cliff  Mine," 
says  Mr.  Jackson,  United  States  geologist,  "is  one  of  the  most  remarka- 
ble known,  for  the  enormous  masses  of  native  copper  it  contains.  One 
of  the  masses,  now  got  out,  is  estimated  at  50  tons  weight.  It  is  cu 
by  means  of  steel  chisels,  driven  by  blows  of  a  heavy  sledge-hammer- 
one  man  holding  the  chisel,  while  the  other  strikes  with  the  sledge;  a 
groove  is  mortised  out  across  the  mass  of  copper;  and  then  a  series  of 
ribbons  of  it,  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  in  thickness,  are  cut  out,  until  the 
channel  thus  mortised  divides  the  mass.  The  copper  is  perfectly  mal- 
leable and  ductile,  and  is  very  tough.  The  masses  of  solid  copper  are 
very  pure,  and  ought  to  yield  more  than  ninety  per  cent,  of  refined  metal." 

To  get  out  such  huge  masses  of  copper,  a  place  is  sought  in  the  shaft 
where  a  hole  may  be  bored  into  the  rock,  and  then  firing  a  heavy  blast. 
This  starts  the  copper  from  the  wall  of  rock,  and  sometimes  removes  it 
entirely.  It  is  then  cut  up  with  chisels.  This  vein  varies  from  two  to 
four  feet  in  -width,  and  increases  in  width  and  richness  as  it  descends  in 
the  rock.  The  hight  of  the  cliff  in  which  this  vein  is  seen,  is  nearly 
300  feet,  and  the  upper  exposure  of  the  veins,  213  feet.  The  top 
of  the  cliff  is  700  feet  above  Lake  Superior. 

At  the  Copper  Falls  mines,  about  200  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
lake,  the  shafts  descend  perpendicularly  into  the  rock  nearly  to  that 
depth.  There  is  a  vein  of  solid  copper.  The  sheets  of  copper  are  of 
amazing  dimensions.  Mr.  Jackson  says:  "One  of  the  masses  of  copper 
got  out  was  20  feet  long,  9  feet  wide,  and  from  4  to  6  inches  thick, 
and  weighed,  by  estimation,  10  tons."  The  Copper  Falls  mines  are 
exceedingly  rich  in  silver.  In  many  parts  of  the  vein,  from  $25  to  $100 
worth  of  silver  is  contained  in  100  weight  of  rock.  Mr.  Jackson  analyzed 
a  rich  specimen,  which  yielded  5  ounces  of  silver  to  6  pounds  of  vein- 
stone. 

The  largest  mass  of  copper  that  has  yet  been  I'emovcd,  was  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  Cliff  Mine,  and  was  estimated  to  weigh  80  tons.  It  was 
pure  copper,  having  a  density  equal  to  that  of  the  hammered  copper  of  com- 
merce, and  much  tougher  than  that  which  is  obtained  by  artificial  smelting. 

The  great  national  value  of  the  copper  mines  of  Lake  Superior  will  be 
seen  by  comparing  their  capability  for  the  production  of  metal  with  other 
copper  mines  in  different  parts  of  the  earth.  The  following  table  exhibits 
the  foreign  mines,  together  with  the  annual  yield  of  metal. 

Sweden 1 ,000  tons 

Russia 2,000  " 

Hungary 2,000  " 

Hartz  mountains 212  " 

East  Germany 143  " 

Hesse 500  « 

Norway 7,200  " 

United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain 14,465  " 

Mexico 200  " 

The    principal    landing-place  on   Keweenaw   point,   to  get  acccsa  to 


546  REGION  OF  LAKE  SUPERIOR. 

the  mines,  is  Eagle  harbor.  The  village  occupies  a  beautiful  site.  The 
houses  are  built  on  the  rising  ground,  in  a  magnificent  grove  of  Norwe- 
gian pines.  The  harbor  is  a  fraction  less  than  a  mile  \ride;  the  greatest 
depth  of  water,  100  feet;  depth  on  the  bar,  10  feet;  and  there  it  can 
be  easily  deepened  to  16  feet,  by  blasting  away  the  rocks.  This 
ought  to  be  done  for  the  safety  of  loaded  steamboats,  which  frequently 
take  shelter  in  the  bay. 

The  Superior  country  is  quite  destitute  of  game ;  but  the  waters 
abound  in  fish  of  the  choicest  kinds.  The  streams  throughout  the  iron 
region  are  alive  with  speckled  trout.  The  lake  fisheries  will  one  day 
rival  those  of  the  ocean,  both  in  extent  and  value.  IsleKoyale  is  a  favorite 
place  of  resort  for  fishermen,  who  take  there  great  numbers  of  the  sisko- 
wit — the  fattest  and  finest  variety  of  the  lake-trout  family  •  also,  lake- 
trout  and  whitefish.  The  siskowit  has  been  known  to  attain  to  the 
weight  of  25  pounds ;  and  the  lake-trout,  50  pounds.  The  sis- 
kowit has  only  to  become  introduced  into  the  eastern  market,  to  take 
the  place  of  all  other  fish,  as  a  delicacy  for  the  table  of  the  epicure. 
The  capability  of  the  fisheries  of  the  Superior  country  may  be  estimated 
by  the  quantities  taken  at  one  place,  near  Mackinaw,  at  which  10,000 
barrels  are  packed  annually.  The  preparations  for  packing  are 
very  simple.  After  being  cleaned,  the  fish  are  laid,  with  the  scales 
on,  upon  broad  benches,  and  salted;  then  thrown  into  a  box,  or  crate, 
with  a  grating  at  the  bottom  to  drain.  Sometimes  a  common  wagon- 
wheel  is  used,  suspended  by  a  rod  passing  through  the  hub ;  the  water 
passes  off  from  the  fish,  between  the  spokes.  After  draining,  the  pack- 
ing commences.  Fish  are  important  articles  of  food  at  the  mines,  and 
will  continue  to  become  more  valuable  as  the  business  of  mining  in- 
creases. 

The  Superior  country  is  a  healthy  country ;  but  the  climate  is  too 
cold  and  forbidding,  and  the  winters  too  long,  to  attract  emigrants,  who 
prefer  to  cultivate  the  soil.  In  July,  the  days  are  very  warm ;  the  nights 
however,  are  cool.  The  changes  in  the  temperature  are  very  sudden  and 
very  great.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  thermometer,  to  fall  forty 
degrees  in  twenty-four  hours.  Frosts  occur  about  the  10  of  Septem- 
ber, sufficient  to  kill  all  vegetation.  The  snows  attain  to  the  depth  of  6 
feet,  and  remain  to  the  last  of  May.  Winter  sets  in  early  in  October. 
During  the  fall  months  there  are  frequent  and  terrible  gales  of  wind,  and 
storms  of  rain  and  snow. 

The  Superior  country  will  one  day  be  erected  into  a  Territory  by  itself, 
or  admitted  as  a  State.  It  will  be,  for  all  time,  not  only  a  mine  of  wealth 
to  the  Union,  but  also  a  nursery  of  a  tough,  hardy,  and  energetic  race 
of  men.  The  full  development  of  its  vast  resources  would  require  a 
population  that  will  make  it  the  great  northern  hive  of  America. — Ferris. 


THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS.  547 


THE   EOCKY   MOUNTAINS. 


Tins  chain  commences  in  New  Mexico,  in  about  32°  30'  north  lati- 
tude, near  Fort  Webster;  it  extends  nearly  north-nortb-west  throughout 
the  north  portion  of  the  continent  to  the  Polar  ocean,  terminating  west 
of  the  mouth  of  Mackenzie's  river,  in  latitude  69°  north,  longitude  135" 
west.  This  range,  in  connection  with  the  Andes,  of  which  it  may  be 
said  to  be  a  continuation,  forms  the  longest,  and,  according  to  Hum- 
boldt, the  most  uniform  chain  of  mountains  on  the  globe.  Somewhat 
more  than  half  of  the  entire  chain  belongs  to  North  America;  the 
name,  Kocky  mountains,  being  usually  applied  to  that  portion  only 
which  is  comprised  within  the  United  States  and  British  America, 
although  the  exact  limit  of  this  mountain  range  toward  the  south  can 
scarcely  be  said  to  be  determined.  The  entire  length,  however,  of  the 
chain,  following  the  windings,  may  be  stated  in  round  numbers  at  3,000 
miles.  The  east  boundary  of  the  Rocky  mountains  in  latitude  38° 
north,  is  in  107°  20'  west  longitude;  in  latitude  40°  north,  108°  30' 
west  longitude;  latitude  63°  north,  124°  40'  west  longitude;  latitude 
68°  north,  130°  30'  west  longitude.  Notwithstanding  this  general 
tending  to  the  west,  the  continent  widens  so  much  more  in  the  same 
direction,  that  this  chain,  which  in  South  and  Central  America,  and 
Mexico,  is  comparatively  a  coast  range,  is  several  hundred  leagues 
inland  in  the  United  States  and  British  America.  The  highest  known 
peaks  in  the  United  States  are  Fremont's,  13,570  feet;  and  Pike's 
peak,  11,497  feet  high;  and  Mount  Brown  and  Mount  Hooker,  in 
British  America,  near  53°  north  latitude,  the  former  about  16,000,  and 
the  latter  15,690  feet  above  the  sea-level.  We  are  very  imperfectly 
acquainted  with  this  system  of  mountains;  the  general  altitude  of  the 
range,  however,  is  supposed  to  vary  from  10,000  to  14,000  feet;  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Parker  states  that  peaks  have  been  measured  of  18,000  feet  in 
elevation.  The  east  slope  of  the  Rocky  mountains  is  remarkable  for  its 
gradual  declination.  The  ascent  from  Fort  Leavenworth,  in  latitude 
39°  21'  north,  and  longitude  94°  44'  west,  to  the  South  pass,  (the 
great  highway  from  Missouri  to  Utah  and  Oregon,)  in  latitude  about 
42°  30'  north,  and  longitude  109°  30'  west,  is  a  little  more  than  6,000 
feet  in  a  distance  of  932  miles  by  the  usual  route.  The  elevation  of 
the  South  pass,  which  is  a  remarkable  depression  in  the  principal  chain 
from  about  l.*)  to  20  miles  wide,  is  about  7,500  feet  above  the  sea. 
This  rise,  as  might  be  inferred  from  what  has  been  said  above,  is  exceed- 
ingly gentle;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  the  ascent  is  almost  imperceptible 
by  any  except  a  scientific  observer. 

Branches. — The  fuUowing  notice  of  the  ramifications  of  the  Rocky 
mountains   is   condensed   from   Humboldt's   "Aspects  of    Nature:" — 


548  THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS. 

"From  about  latitude  22°  north,  the  Cordillera  of  Analiuac  divides  into 
3  chains.  1.  The  east  chain,  that  of  I'otosi  and  Texas,  is  contin- 
ued northward  into  Arkansas  and  Missouri,  under  the  name  of  Ozark 
mountains;  thence  by  a  succession  of  hills  through  Wisconsin  to  Lake 
Superior.  2.  The  central  chain  of  Durango  and  New  Mexico,  taking 
the  name  of  Eocky  mountains.  From  this  chain  an  important  branch 
(called  the  Black  hills)  detaches  itself  in  about  40°  north  latitude,  and 
extends  at  first  nearly  east,  and  then  north,  forming  the  dividing  ridge 
between  the  tributaries  of  the  Yellowstone  and  those  of  the  Missouri  on 
the  east,  and  the  tributaries  of  the  Platte  on  the  south,  spreading  out 
in  the  highlands  of  Nebraska  and  Minnesota,  where  they  constitute  the 
watershed  between  the  streams  which  flow  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and 
those  flowing  to  the  Polar  sea.  The  highest  known  summit  of  this 
branch  is  about  8,000  feet  above  the  sea.  3.  The  west  range  passes 
through  Cinaloa  and  Sonora,  being  linked  by  spurs  with  the  mountains 
of  California."  On  each  side  of  the  Rio  Grande,  in  New  Mexico,  there 
are  several  parallel  ridges,  with  the  same  general  course  as  the  central 
ridge,  taking  the  local  names  of  Sierra  Bianca,  Sacramento  mountains. 
Organ  mountains,  etc.  on  the  east  side  of  the  river,  and  San  Juan,  Jemez 
mountains,  Zufii  mountains,  etc.  on  the  west.  This  plan  of  local  naming 
continues  throughout  the  chain,  which  is  in  fact  a  system  rather  than  a 
range  of  mountains. 

Plateaus,  etc. — Between  the  highest  ridge  of  the  Rocky  mountains 
on  the  east,  and  the  Sierra  Nevada  and  Cascade  range  on  the  west,  is  a 
vast  region  of  table  land,  which  in  its  widest  part  extends  through  14 
degrees  of  longitude :  that  is,  about  700  miles  from  east  to  west.  Hum- 
boldt, in  his  "Aspects  of  Nature,"  (edition  of  1849,)  already  alluded  to, 
observes  that  the  Rocky  mountains  between  37°  and  43°  present  lofty 
plains,  of  an  extent  hardly  met  with  in  any  other  part  of  the  globe; 
having  a  breadth  from  east  to  west  twice  as  great  as  the  plateaus  of 
Mexico.  In  the  west  part  of  the  great  central  plateaus  above  described, 
lies  the  Great  basin,  otherwise  called  Fremont's  basin,  from  its  having  been 
first  explored  by  Colonel  Fremont.  It  is  situated  between  Sierra  Neva- 
da and  Wahsatch  mountains,  and  is  bounded  on  every  side  with  high 
hills  or  mountains.  It  is  about  500  miles  in  extent,  from  east  to  west, 
and  350  from  north  to  south.  Only  a  part  of  it  has  been  thoroughly 
explored;  it  is,  however,  known  to  contain  a  number  of  lakes  and  rivers, 
none  of  whose  waters  ever  reach  the  ocean,  being  probably  taken  up  by 
evaporation,  or  lost  in  the  sand  of  the  more  arid  districts.  As  far  as 
known,  the  lakes  of  this  basin  are  salt,  except  Utah  lake.  The  largest 
of  these,  the  Great  Salt  lake,  is  filled  with  a  saturated  solution  of 
common  salt;  it  has  an  elevation  of  4,200  feet  above  the  sea. 

Passes. — Probably  no  mountains  of  the  same  altitude  can  be  so 
readily  traversed  as  the  Rocky  mountain  chain,  owing  to  the  great 
breadth  of  its  base,  and  its  gentle  acclivity.  Among  the  most  remarka- 
ble of  the  numerous  passes  may  be  mentioned  that  leading  from  the 
head-waters  of  the  Athabasca  to  those  of  the  Columbia,  between  Mount 
Brown  and  Mount  Hooker,  and  called  the  Athabasca  portage;  it  has  a 
a  hight  of  7,300  feet,  and  has  only  been  used  by  the  traders  of  the 


THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS.  549 

Hudson  Bay  Company,  as  the  principal  pass  into  the  basin  of  Columbia; 
Cadot's  pass,  near  the  north  boundary  of  the  United  States;  the  well- 
known  South  pass,  already  alluded  to;  the  old  Santa  Fe  trail  from 
Independence  to  the  town  of  Santa  Fe,  and  the  El  Paso  route  in  the 
south  of  New  Mexico.  Governor  Stevens  of  Washington  Territory,  says 
of  that  portion  about  the  sources  of  the  Missouri,  "that  it  is  broken  into 
spurs,  and  filled  with  valleys,  furnishing  several  good  passes  much 
lower  than  the  celebrated  South  pass,  one  by  barometric  measurement, 
1,500  feet  lower."  Fremont,  in  the  winter  of  1853-'54,  explored  a  route 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  to  the  pass  of  the  Huerfano  river, 
through  the  Sierra  Blanca,  in  New  Mexico,  thence  across  the  valley  of 
San  Luis,  up  that  of  Sah-watch,  through  the  Central  Chain  of  the 
llocky  mountains  by  the  Coocha-too-pe  pass. 

Much  attention  has  recently  been  directed  toward  ascertaining  the 
most  suitable  passes  across  the  llocky  mountains,  with  a  view  to  the 
location. of  the  contemplated  Pacific  railroad.  For  the  following  impor- 
tant items  of  information,  we  are  indebted  to  the  courtesy  of  Henry  V. 
Poor,  Esq.,  the  able  editor  of  the  American  Railroad  Journal: — "The 
proposed  northern  route  for  the  Pacific  railroad  would  cross  the  llocky 
mountains  near  the  sources  of  the  Missouri  and  Columbia,  at  an  eleva- 
tion of  about  6,000  feet  above  the  sea;  the  elevation  of  the  summit  of 
the  South  pass  is  7,490  feet;  the  Bear  Mountain  summit,  1,000  feet 
higher;  the  Central  route  would  cross  by  the  Coocha-too-pe  pass,  in 
latitude  38°,  at  an  elevation  of  11,082  feet,  or  by  the  Saugre  de  Christo 
pass,  at  8,800  feet;  the  Southern  route,  proposed  to  cross  near  the  32d 
parallel  of  north  latitude,  would  traverse  the  great  plateau  where  an 
interval  seems  to  occur  between  the  termination  of  the  Sierra  Madre  and 
the  commencement  of  the  llocky  mountains  proper,  at  an  elevation, 
probably,  no  where  greater  than  5,000  feet."  (See  Bulletin  of  the 
New  York  Geographical  Society,  art.  V.  1854.) 

Amid  the  valleys  and  gorges  of  this  stupendous  system  of  mountains, 
some  of  the  largest  rivers  of  the  globe  have  their  birth.  Of  these,  the 
Athabasca,  Peace,  and  Mackenzies  find  their  outlet  in  the  Polar  sea; 
the  Saskatchawan  in  the  Atlantic,  though  Hudson's  bay;  the  Missouri 
and  its  many  tributaries,  the  Platte,  Arkansas,  and  Bed  rivers,  gliding 
gently  down  its  long  eastern  slopes,  find  an  exit  in  the  Mississippi,  and 
thence  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico;  while  the  Bio  Del  Norte,  the  Colorado, 
and  the  Columbia,  (with  Lewis  river,  its  principal  tributary,  forming  in 
itself  a  mighty  stream,)  take  opposite  directions;  the  fii'st  through  the 
valley  of  New  Mexico  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico;  the  second  through  the 
deserts  of  Utah  and  the  western  part  of  New  Mexico  to  the  Gulf  of 
California;  while  the  last,  from  the  north,  bursting  through  the  Cascade 
and  coast  ranges,  rushes  to  join  the  mighty  Pacific,  bearing  the  only 
waters  that  reach  that  ocean  directly  from  this  range.  Erman  observes, 
"that  it  is  remarkable,  that  if  au  arch  of  a  great  circle  were  prolonged 
from  the  Aldan  mountains  in  Siberia,  it  would  pass  through  the  princi- 
pal peaks  of  the  llocky  mountains,  between  40°  and  55°  north  latitude. 

Geology. — Of  the  geological  structure  of  the  llocky  mountains  as 
yet  very  little  is  known.     The  highest  parts,  visited  by  Fremont  were 


550  WISCONSIN. 

composed  of  rocks  of  granite  and  gneiss,  sliootiag  up  into  sharp  and 
jagged  peaks.  Volcanic  rocks  are  known  to  exist  in  many  places  on 
the  slopes  or  sides  of  these  mountains.  According  to  the  most  recent 
reports  there  is,  between  the  head  of  the  Madison  river  and  the  upper 
waters  of  the  Yellowstone,  a  volcanic  region  of  perhaps  100  square  miles 
n  extent,  in  which  some  of  the  volcanoes  are  said  to  have  lately  been  in 
a  state  of  eruption.  Hot  springs  arc  found  not  only  in  this  region  but 
in  various  other  places  on  the  east  and  west  declivities  of  the  llocky 
mountain  range.  Near  42°  37'  north  latitude,  and  111°  45'  west  lon- 
gitude, there  are  a  number  of  fountains,  the  waters  of  which  effervesce 
with  the  carbonic  acid  that  they  contain.  From  this  circumstance 
they  have  received  the  name  of  "Beer,  or  Soda  Springs."  The  most 
remarkable  of  these  throws  up  a  jet  iVeau  of  about  3  feet  high, 
accompanied  with  a  subterraneous  noise,  which,  together  with  the 
rushing  of  the  water,  resembles  the  sound  of  a  steamboat  in  motion, 
whence  it  has  been  termed  the  "Steamboat  Spring." — Fkemont. 


WISCONSIN. 


This  State  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Minnesota,  Lake  Superior,  and 
the  northern  peninsula  of  Michigan,  (from  which  it  is  separated  in  part 
by  the  Menomonee  and  Montreal  rivers,)  on  the  east  by  Lake  Michigan, 
south  by  Illinois,  and  west  by  Iowa  and  Minnesota  Territory,  from  the 
former  of  which  it  is  separated  by  the  Mississippi,  and  from  the  latter 
(in  part)  by  the  St.  Croix  river.  It  lies  between  42°  30'  and  46°  55' 
north  latitude,  (if  we  exclude  some  small  islands  belonging  to  the  State 
in  Lake  Superior,)  and  between  87°  and  92°  50'  west  longitude,  being 
about  285  miles  in  extreme  length  from  north  to  south,  and  about  255 
in  its  greatest  breadth  from  east  to  west,  including  an  area  of  about 
53,924  square  miles,  or  34,511,360  acres,  of  which  1,045,499  were  im- 
proved in  1850. 

Face  of  the  Country. — Wisconsin  may  be  described  generally  as  an 
elevated  rolling  prairie,  from  600  to  1,200  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea.  The  highest  portion  of  this  plateau  is  on  the  north,  and  forms  the 
dividing  ridge  between  the  waters  flowing  south-west  into  the  Mississippi, 
and  those  flowing  north  into  Lake  Superior.  The  southern  slope  is  again 
interrupted  about  the  middle  of  the  State  by  another  ridge,  giving  origin 


WISCONSIN.  551 

to  a  second  slope,  drained  by  Rock  river  and  its  brancnes.  This  State 
has  no  mountains,  properly  so  called.  The  descent  toward  Lake  Supe- 
rior is  very  abrupt,  and  the  rivers  full  of  rapids  and  falls,  which  inter- 
rupt navigation  but  afford  valuable  mill-sites.  There  is  a  third  ridge  or 
elevation  in  the  south-east,  dividiog  the  water-courses  of  Lake  Michigan 
from  those  of  Green  bay.  Just  below  the  second  ridge,  a  depression 
crosses  the  State,  forming  the  bed  of  the  Neenah  or  Fox  river,  and  the 
Lower  Wisconsin,  When  the  rivers  are  unusually  full,  these  actually 
communicate,  though  running  in  opposite  directions,  the  one  to  the 
Mississippi,  and  the  other  to  Lake  Michigan. 

Geology. — Limestone  underlies  most  of  the  southern  part  of  the 
State — the  cliff  limestone  in  the  mineral  districts,  and  the  blue  elsewhere. 
The  northern  part  seems  to  be  composed  of  primitive  rocks,  for  the  most 
part  of  granite,  slate,  and  sandstone.  Commencing  a  little  south  of  the 
Wisconsin,  and  along  the  Mississippi,  as  far  back  as  the  falls  of  its  trib- 
utaries, sandstone,  between  layers  of  limestone,  is  the  prevailing  rock, 
and  forms  the  cliffs  on  the  Mississippi,  below  St.  Anthony's  falls,  for  35 
miles.  The  rivers  in  this  region  are  much  obstructed  by  shifting  beds 
of  this  sand.  From  Lake  Michigan  westward  to  the  other  sections 
named,  is  a  limestone  region,  in  many  parts  well  timbered,  while  in 
others  a  considerable  portion  is  prairie.  Underlying  the  blue  limestone 
is  a  brown  sandstone,  which  crops  out  ou  the  sides  of  the  hills,  but  no 
lead  has  ever  been  found  in  ifc.  A  section  through  the  Blue  mound  would 
give  the  following  result,  descending  vertically:  Hornstone,  410  feet; 
magnesian  lime,  or  lead-bearing  rock,  159  feet;  saccharoid  sandstone, 
40  feet;  sandstone,  3  feet;  lower  limestone,  (at  the  level  of  the  Wis- 
consin,) 190  feet.  The  elevations  of  different  parts  of  the  southern  sec- 
tion of  the  State  are  given  by  Chancellor  Lathrop,  at  Blue  mounds,  1,170; 
head  waters  of  the  Eock  river,  316;  egress  of  the  same  river  from  the 
State,  128,  and  the  pcrtage  batween  the  Fox  and  Wisconsin  rivers,  at 
223  feet  above  the  level  of  Lake  Michigan  and  the  Wisconsin  river. 

Following  the  map  accompanying  the  geological  work  of  Professor 
Owen,  on  the  vStates  of  Iowa  and  Wisconsio,  and  the  Territory  of  Minne- 
sota, we  should  say  that  about  half  the  northern  part  of  tlie  State  of 
Wisconsin,  resting  on  Lake  Superior,  and  having  its  apex  near  the  44th 
degree  of  north  latitude,  and  about  the  middle  of  the  State,  (taken  in  an 
east  and  west  direction,)  is  covered  by  drift,  overlaying  the  Potsdam 
sandstone  of  New  York,  and  metamorphic  strata,  with  occasional  protru- 
sions of  granite  and  other  igneous  rocks.  Beyond  this  triangle,  on  the 
south-east  and  south-west,  the  sandstone  conies  to  the  surface  in  a  broad 
belt,  having  between  it  and  the  Mississippi,  (from  the  St.  Croix  to  the 
Wisconsin  river,)  a  second  belt  of  lower  maguesian  limestone,  with  the 
sandstone  occasionally  laid  bare  in  the  valleys  of  the  streams.  This 
same  formation  is  continued  on  the  south,  (following  the  Wisconsin  river  on 
both  sides,)  and  on  the  east,  coasting  the  sandstone  belt  to  its  full  extent. 
The  limestone  is  followed  in  turn  by  another  zone  of  white  sandstone, 
containing  beds  of  shells.  Next  succeeds  the  lead-bearing  group  of 
upper  magnesian  limestone,  extending  into  Illinois  and  Iowa  on  the  south 
and  west,  and  on  the  east  running  up  into  the  peninsula  formed  by  Greea 


552  WISCONSIN. 

bay  and  Lake  Michigan,  having  a  triangle  of  the  Niagara  limestone 
between  it  and  Lake  Michigan  on  the  south-east.  On  the  shores  of  Lake 
Superior  are  two  beds  of  red  clay  and  marl,  separated  by  ridges  of  drift 
from  300  to  GOO  feet  high.  East  of  this,  and  just  where  the  northern 
boundary  leaves  the  lake,  parallel  groups  of  conglomerate  red  sandstone 
and  slates,  trap,  and  metamorphic  slates,  with  beds  of  magnetic  iron  ore, 
granite,  and  quartzose  rooks  come  to  the  surface. 

Minerals. — Part  of  the  great  lead  region  extending  from  Illinois  and 
Iowa  is  included  in  the  south-west  part  of  Wisconsin,  and  occ'.ipies  an 
area  of  nearly  2,880  square  miles,  about  three-fourths  of  which  is  in  the 
last-named  State.  This  portion  is  no  less  rich  in  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  its  ore,  than  in  the  other  States  where  it  lies.  The  land  is 
here  intermingled  with  copper  and  zinc,  the  latter  in  large  quantities, 
together  with  some  silver.  In  Lapointe,  Chippewa,  St.  Croix,  and  Iowa 
counties,  copper  is  also  found ;  in  Dodge  county,  "  at  the  so  called  Iron 
ridge,  is  the  most  promising  locality  of  iron  ore  in  the  State  yet  disco- 
vered ;"  but  on  the  Black  river  and  other  branches  of  the  Mississippi, 
good  iron  ore  occurs.  The  iron  ores  of  Lake  Superior  region  extend  from 
Michigan  into  this  State,  in  abundant  deposits  of  the  richest  quality. 
The  other  metallic  substances  are  magnetic  iron,  iron  pyrites,  and 
graphite  or  plumbago.  The  non-metallic  earths  are  agate,  cornelians, 
(found  on  the  shores  of  the  small  lakes,)  bitumen,  peat,  (which  being  in 
a  region  poorly  supplied  with  fuel,  may  hereafter  become  valuable  as  a 
substitute  for  coal ;)  marble  of  fine  quality,  lime,  quartz,  some  gypsum, 
saltpetre,  sulphates  of  barytes,  porphyry,  and  coal  in  small  quantities. 
A  vain  of  copper  ore  was  discovered  in  1848,  near  the  Kickapoo  river, 
which  yields  about  20  per  cent,  of  copper,  but  to  what  extent  the  bed 
runs  has  not  been  ascertained.  Mines  were  also  worked  at  the  falls  of 
Black  river,  and  in  its  vicinity,  but  they  have  been  abandoned.  Facts 
do  not  justify  any  expectation  of  great  deposits  of  copper  in  the  north- 
western part  of  the  State.  A  great  bed  of  magnetic  iron  ore  lies  soutb 
of  Lake  Superior,  near  Tyler's  fork  of  the  Bad  river,  in  strata  of  meta- 
morphic slate.  In  1850,  569,921  pigs  of  lead  were  shipped  from  Dubuque 
and  ]\lineral  point,  but  778,460  in  1845.  Beautiful  varieties  of  marble 
have  been  recently  discovered  or  made  known  to  the  public  in  the  north 
part  of  Wisconsin.  According  to  Messrs.  Foster  and  Whitney's  report, 
they  are  found  on  the  Michigamig  and  Menomonee  rivers,  and  atford 
beautiful  marbles,  whose  prevailing  color  is  light  pink,  traversed  by  veins 
or  seams  of  deep  red.  Others  are  blue  and  dove  colored,  beautifully 
veined.  These  are  susceptible  of  a  fine  polish,  and  some  on  the  Meno- 
monee are  within  navigable  distance  from  New  York. 

Lakes  and  Bivers. — Beside  the  great  Lakes  Superior  and  Michigan, 
which  lave  its  northern  and  eastern  shores,  Wisconsin  has  a  number  of 
small  lakes.  The  principal  of  these  is  Lake  Winnebago,  south-east  of 
the  middle  of  the  State.  It  is  about  28  miles  long  and  10  miles  wide, 
and  communicates  with  Green  bay,  (a  north-west  arm  of  Lake  Michigan,) 
through  the  Fox  or  Neenah  river.  These  small  lakes  are  most  abundant 
in  the  north-west,  and  are  generally  characterized  by  clear  water  and 
gravelly  bottoms,  often  with  bold  picturesque  sliores,  crowned  with  hem- 


WISCONSIN.  553 

lock,  spruce,  and  other  trees.  They  afford  excellent  fish.  In  the  shallow 
waters  on  the  margins  of  some  of  them  grows  wild  rice,  an  impcrtan* 
article  of  food  with  the  savages  of  this  region.  The  rivers  which  traverse 
the  interior,  flow  generally  in  a  south-west  direction,  and  discharge  their 
waters  into  the  Mississippi.  The  latter  river  runs  along  the  south-west 
border  of  Wisconsin  for  more  than  200  miles.  Commencing  at  the  south, 
we  have,  in  the  following  order,  Wisconsin,  Bad  Axe,  Black  and  Chip- 
pewa rivers.  Of  these  the  most  important  is  the  Wisconsin,  which  has  a 
course  of  probably  200  miles,  almost  directly  south,  when  it  flows  nearly 
west  for  about  100  more.  It  is  navigable  for  steamboats  180  miles.  The 
Chippewa  is  about  200,  and  the  Black  150  miles  long.  The  Hock,  Des 
Plaiues,  and  Fox  river  (of  Illinois)  drain  the  south-east  slope  of  the  State, 
and  pass  off  into  Illinois.  The  Fox  or  Neenah  is  the  outlet  of  Winne- 
bago lake,  and  connects  it  with  Green  Bay.  The  Wolf,  from  the  north, 
is  the  main  feeder  of  the  same  lake.  The  Menomonee,  emptying  into 
G-reen  Bay,  and  the  Montreal  into  Lake  Superior,  are  rapid  streams, 
which  are  valuable  for  mill-sites.  They  form  part  of  the  north-east  boun- 
dary. The  Menomonee  has  a  descent  of  1,049  feet.  The  St.  Louis, 
(considered  as  the  primary  source  of  the  St.  Lawrence,)  coasts  this  State 
for  20  or  30  miles  on  the  north-west,  and  is  full  of  rapids  and  falls  in 
this  part  of  its  course.  These  rivers  are  not  generally  favorable  to  navi- 
gation without  artificial  aid.  The  Wisconsin  may  be  ascended  by  steam- 
boats to  the  rapids,  where  it  approaches  a  tributary  of  Lake  Winnebago, 
within  a  mile  and  a  half,  where  a  canal  is  being  constructed,  which,  when 
completed,  will  open  an  entire  inland  navigation  from  New  York  to  the 
Upper  Mississippi.  The  Rock  river  is  sometimes  at  high  water  ascended 
by  boats  to  within  the  limits  of  Wisconsin.  The  Bad  Axe,  Black,  Chip- 
pewa, and  St.  Croix  are  important  channels  for  floating  timber  to  market 
from  the  pine  regions  in  the  north-west  of  the  State.  The  rivers  flowing 
into  Lake  Superior  are  small,  and  though  unfavorable  for  commerce,  their 
rapid  courses  make  them  valuable  for  mill-sites.  Colonel  Long  estimates 
that  the  Chippewa,  Black,  Wisconsin,  and  Bock  rivers  are  respectively 
capable  of  a  steamboat  navigation  of  70,  60,  180,  and  250  miles,  but  at 
present  they  are  a  good  deal  obstructed  by  shifting  sands  and  rapids. 

Objects  op  Interest  to  Tourists. — Wisconsin,  though  young  in 
political  existence,  is  not  behind  her  sister  States  in  objects  of  interest, 
not  merely  for  the  utilitarian,  but  for  the  lover  of  picturesque,  and  even 
the  antiquary.  Scattered  over  her  undulating  plains  are  found  earth 
works,  modelled  after  the  forms  of  men  and  animals,  that  are  evidently 
the  work  of  a  race  different  from  those  who  possessed  the  country  at  the 
period  of  the  arrival  of  the  Europeans.  At  Aztalan,  in  Jefferson  county, 
is  an  ancient  fortification.  550  yards  long,  275  wide,  with  walls  4  or  5 
feet  high,  and  more  than  20  feet  thick  at  the  base.  Another  work, 
resembling  a  man  in  a  recumbent  position,  120  feet  long  and  30  across 
the  trunk,  is  to  be  seen  near  the  Blue  Mounds;  and  one  resembling 
a  turtle,  56  feet  in  length,  at  Prairieville.  These  artificial  works  are 
generally  without  order,  but  sometimes  have  a  systematic  arrangement, 
with  fragments  of  pottery  often  scattered  around.  Some  are  so  defaced 
as  to  make  it  difficult  to  trace  the  animal  resemblances  referred  to,  while 


554  WISCONSIN. 

others  arc  distinctly  visible.  One  is  said  to  have  been  discovered  near 
Cassville,  resembling  the  extinct  mastodon.  Among  the  most  striking 
natural  objects  are  the  Blue  Mounds,  in  Dane  county,  the  highest  of 
■which  has  an  elevation  of  1,170  feet  above  the  Wisconsin,  and  is  a  promi- 
nent landmark  in  this  country  of  prairies.  Platte  and  other  mounds,  in 
the  south-west  of  the  State,  have  various  elevations  of  from  GO  to  more 
than  100  feet.  This  State  shares  with  Minnesota  the  beautiful  Lake  Pepin, 
an  expansion  of  the  Mississippi,  mostly  walled  in  by  precipitous  shores, 
which  rise  from  300  to  500  feet  nearly  perpendicular.  These  bights  are 
merely  given  as  examples,  not  as  the  only  ones  there  are.  Almost  all  the 
rivers  of  Wisconsin  abound  in  rapids  and  falls.  The  most  remarkable 
of  these  are  a  series  of  cascades,  or  cataracts,  in  the  St.  Louis  river,  which 
have  a  descent  of  320  feet  in  16  miles,  terminating  about  20  miles  from 
its  mouth,  Quinnessec  falls,  in  the  Menomonee  river,  have  one  perpen- 
dicular pitch  of  40  feet,  and  an  entire  descent  of  184  feet  in  one  mile  and 
a  half,  besides  several  other  rapids,  where  the  river  tosses  and  dashes 
through  narrow  and  tortuous  defiles.  Among  the  other  falls,  are  St.  Croix, 
Chippewa,  and  Big  Bull  falls  in  the  Wisconsin.  The  river  bluffs  present 
grand  and  picturesque  views  in  many  places,  particularly  at  Mount  Trem- 
pleau,  on  the  Mississippi,  in  La  Cross  county,  where  the  rocks  rise  500 
feet  perpendicularly  above  the  river — in  Richland  county,  on  the  Wiscon- 
sin, where  the  banks  are  from  150  to  200  feet  high — and  in  Sauk  county, 
where  it  passes  through  a  narrow  gorge  between  cliffs  of  from  400  to  500 
feet  elevation.  Grandfather  Bull  falls,  the  greatest  rapids  in  the  Wiscon- 
sin river,  are  in  about  45°  north  latitude,  and  are  a  series  of  small  cas- 
cades, or  rapids,  breaking  through  a  ridge  of  150  feet  perpendicular 
bight,  for  the  distance  of  one  mile  and  a  half.  In  this  vicinity  are  a 
number  of  chalybeate  springs.  On  the  same  river  near  the  44th  parallel 
of  north  latitude,  is  Petenwell  peak,  an  oval  mass  of  rock,  900  feet  long 
by  300  feet  wide,  and  200  in  elevation  above  the  neighboring  country,  of 
which  it  commands  an  extensive  view.  About  70  feet  of  this,  at  the  top, 
is  composed  of  perpendicular  rocks,  split  into  towers,  turrets,  etc.  A  few 
miles  below  this  is  Fortification  rock,  which  rises  to  the  bight  of  100 
feet  or  more  above  the  general  level,  being  perpendicular  on  one  side, 
while  on  the  other  it  descends  by  a  succession  of  terraces  to  the  common 
level.  At  the  Dalles,  the  Wisconsin  'is  compressed  for  5  or  6  miles 
between  red  sandstone  hills,  from  25  feet  to  120  feet  high,  and  an  average 
of  100  feet  asunder.  Between  the  Dalles  and  the  mouth  of  the  river, 
the  bluffs  are  of  every  variety  of  bight  under  400  feet. 

Climate. — The  climate,  though  severe,  and  the  winters  long,  is  more 
regular  and  more  free  from  those  frequent  and  unhealthy  changes  that 
prevail  farther  south.  The  lakes,  too,  exert  a  mitigating  influence,  the 
temperature  being  6J°  higher  on  the  lake  than  on  the  Mississippi  side. 
The  lake  shore  is  also  more  moist,  but  the  State  generally  is  drier  than 
in  the  same  parallels  farther  east.  From  records  kept  between  1835  and 
1845,  it  appears  the  Milwaukee  river  was  closed  on  an  average  from 
November  22  to  March  26 ;  and  steamboats  arrived  at  Mineral  Point 
from  February  26  to  April  16,  closing  from  November  16  to  December 
4.     The  diseases  consequent  upon  clearing  lands  are  less  frequent,  it  is 


WISCONSIN.  555 

said,  in  this  than  other  new  States,  owing  to  the  open  nature  of  the 
country  in  the  oak  openings.  The  number  of  deaths  in  1850  were  less 
than  10  in  every  thousand  persons — while  Massachusetts  had  about  20, 

Soil  and  Productions. — The  country  south  of  the  middle  is  a  fine 
agricultural  region,  particularly  that  back  of  Kenosha.  In  the  mineral 
district,  west  of  the  Pekatonica,  the  country  is  broken,  but,  what  is 
unusual  in  mining  tracts,  generally  well  adapted  to  farming,  and  especial- 
ly to  grazing.  But  probably  the  best  agricultural  section  is  that  east  of 
the  Pekatonica,  which  has  more  prairie  land,  though  even  here  is  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  timbered  land  on  the  rivers  and  streams.  The 
agricultural  capabilities  of  the  northern  part  of  the  State,  around  the 
head  waters  of  the  Black  and  Chippewa  rivers,  and  the  sources  of  the 
rivers  emptying  into  Lake  Superior  are  small,  the  surface  in  part  being 
covered  with  drift  and  boulders,  and  partly  with  ponds  and  marshes.  The 
agricultural  staples  of  this  State  are  wheat,  Indian  corn,  oats,  Irish 
potatoes,  butter,  and  live  stock,  besides  considerable  quantities  of  rye, 
wool,  beans,  peas,  barley,  buckwheat,  maple  sugar,  beeswax,  honey,  cheese, 
and  hay,  with  some  sweet  potatoes,  tobacco,  fruits,  wine,  grass-seeds,  hops, 
flax,  and  hemp.  There  were  in  1850,  20,177  farms  in  Wisconsin,  con- 
taining 1,045,499  acres  of  improved  land,  producing  4,286,131  bushels 
of  wheat,  81,253  of  rye;  3,414,672  of  oats;  1,988,979  of  Indian  corn 
1,402,770  of  Irish  potatoes ;  209,692  of  barley ;  79,878  of  buckwheat 
20,657  peas  and  beans;  3,633,750  pounds  of  butter;  400,283  of  cheese 
610,976  of  maple  sugar;  253,963  of  wool;  68,393  of  flax;  131,005  of 
beeswax  and  honey;  272,622  tons  of  hay.  Live  stock,  valued  at 
$4,897,385;  slaughtered  animals,  at  §920,178;  orchard  products,  at 
§4,823,  and  products  of  market  garden!?,  at  $32,142. 

Forest  Trees. — There  are  vast  forests  of  pine  on  the  Upper  Wis- 
consin, the  Wolf  river,  and  the  tributaries  of  the  Mississippi,  north  of 
the  Wisconsin.  The  other  forest  trees  are  spruce,  tamarac,  cedar,  oak 
of  difi'erent  species,  birch,  aspen,  basswood,  hickory,  elm,  ash,  hemlock, 
poplar,  sycamore,  and  sugar-maple;  but  forests  such  as  are  seen  in 
Pennsylvania  and  New  York  occur  only  in  a  small  portion  of  the  Rock 
river  valley,  and  in  a  narrow  border  on  Lake  Michigan.  The  oak  openings 
already  described  form  a  pleasing  feature  in  the  landscapes  of  Wisconsin. 

Animals. — The  wild  animals  are  black  bears,  prairie  wolves,  gray 
wolves,  foxes,  woodchucks,  and  the  gopher,  which  is  found  only  on  the 
west  side,  near  the  Mississippi  river.  The  last-named  animal  is  very 
destructive  to  the  roots  of  fruit  trees. 

Manufactures. — This  youthful  State  has  not  yet  had  time  (nor  is  it 
yet  her  most  profitable  resource)  to  test  her  manufacturing  capabilities. 
In  1850  there  were  1,262  establishments,  each  producing  $500  and 
upward  annually,  engaged  in  manufactures,  mining,  and  the  mechanic 
arts,  employing  an  aggregate  capital  of  $3,382,148,  and  5,798  male,  and 
291  female  hands;  consuming  raw  material  worth  $5,414,931,  and  yield- 
ing products  valued  at  $9,293,068  ;  of  which  16,  with  a  capital  of  $131,350, 
and  employing  288  male  hands,  were  engaged  in  the  manufacture  of 
iron,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $95,186,  and  producing  4,343  tons 
of  pig  iron,  castings,  etc.,  valued  at  $243,195;  and  nine  woolen  manu' 


556  WISCONSIN. 

factories,  employing  $31,225  capital,  and  25  male  hands,  consuming  raw 
mntorial  ^\-orth  S;V2,6oO,  and  producing  87,902  yards  of  stuff,  and  74,350 
pounds  of  yarn,  worth  a  total  value  of  §87,992;  and  §98,700  inves^ted 
in  manufacturing  malt  and  spirituous  liquors,  consuming  91,020  bushels 
of  barley,  21^000  of  Indian  corn,  9,200  of  rye,  and  28  tons  of  hops,  and 
producing  127,000  gallons  of  M'hisky,  etc.,  and  31,320  barrels  of  ale 
beor,  etc.  Home-made  manufactures  were  produced  worth  §43,624,  and 
family  goods  valued  at  §12,567.  The  numerous  rivers  and  streams  of 
AVisconsin,  with  their  frequent  rapids  and  falls,  afford  great  facilities  for 
mill-sites  of  every  sort,  and  her  forests  and  iron  for  ship  and  steamboat 
building.  Mr.  Hunt,  in  his  Gazetteer,  estimates  the  manufacture  of 
pine  lumber  at  400,000,000  feet,  besides  which  large  quantities  of  oak 
and  basswood  are  sawed  into  scantling,  plank,  lath,  etc.  He  also  gives 
the  number  of  barrels  of  flour  manufactured  at  100,000,  (independent 
of  all  kinds  of  mill  stuffs  in  abundance,)  of  paper,  300,000  pounds,  and 
of  shot,  100,000  pounds  annually. 

Internal  Improvements. — A  canal  is  being  constructed  from  the 
Wisconsin  to  the  Fox  river,  with  funds  arising  from  the  sale  of  land 
appropriated  by  the  national  government,  though  under  State  supervision. 
This,  when  completed,  will  open  an  uninterrupted  inland  navigation  from 
New  Orleans  to  New  York.  According  to  Hunt's  Magazine,  there  was 
322  miles  of  completed  railroad  in  this  State  in  January  1850,  and  707 
in  course  of  construction;  or, according  to  the  American  Railway  Times, 
283  miles  completed,  and  74G  in  course  of  construction;  cost  §5,600,000. 
Of  these  the  Milwaukie  and  Missis.sippi  is  finished  103  miles,  the  Mil- 
waukie  and  Watertown  50,  the  Rock  river  86,  tlie  Janesville  and  Madison 
35,  GreenBay,  Milwaukie  and  Chicago  41,  and  La  Crosse  18  miles.  In  May, 
1855,  Milwaukie  was  connected  by  completed  railroad  more  or  less  directly 
with  Chicago,  Madison,  Janesville,  Watertown,  and  intermediate  points; 
while  roads  were  in  progress  that  will  continue  the  connections  to 
Prairie  du  Chien,  La  Crosse,  Fond-du-Lac,  Green  Bay,  and  Beloit.  The 
latter  town  is  already  united  to  Chicago.  Roads  are  also  in  progress 
from  Kenosha  to  Beloit,  and  from  Mineral  point  to  the  Chicago  and 
Galena  railroad.  Plank  and  trunk-roads  are  being  laid  from  the  lake 
depots  toward  the  interior.  One  of  60  miles  extends  from  Kenosha  to 
Fox  river. 

Commerce. — Wisconsin  enjoys  great  facilities  for  internal  trade  with 
the  lake  and  Eastern  States,  through  those  great  inland  seas  which 
bound  her  on  the  north  and  east,  and  with  almost  every  part  of  the  valley 
of  the  Mississippi,  by  means  of  the  river  of  that  name  and  its  numerous 
tributaries,  and  even  with  the  Atlantic  ports  through  the  Gulf  of  Mex- 
ico. The  foreign  trade,  however,  of  this  State  is  insignificant,  amounting 
in  1854  to  a  value  only  of  §49,174  in  imports,  and  §30,464  in  exports. 
There  were  built  in  the  State  in  that  year  26  vessels,  with  an  aggregate 
tonnage  of  2,946  tons;  tonnage  owned  in  the  State,  14,217.  The 
aggregate  of  exports  and  imports  of  Milwaukie  for  1854  have  been 
loosely  estimated  at  §18,000,000.  The  exports  of  grain  from  the  Jake 
ports  alone  amounted  to  6,930,150  bushels  in  the  same  year.  The 
exports  of  the  State  at  large  consist  mainly  of  wheat,  Indian  corn,  oats, 


WISCONSIN.  557 

flour,  lumber,  pork,  beef,  lard,  butter,  lead,  bricks,  etc.  The  exports  of 
Eacine  amounted  in  value  to  $1,381,691 ;  and  of  Gi'cen  Bay,  in  lumber 
alone,  to  S374,435.  According  to  De  Bow's  Review,  there  were  exported 
in  1851-52,  from  the  St.  Croix,  Chippewa,  and  Black  rivers,  in  the  north- 
west part  of  Wisconsin,  61,000,000  feet  of  lumber;  23,000,000  feet  of 
logs  ;  square  timber,  lath,  shingles,  etc.,  valued  at  $30,000  ;  and  furs 
and  peltries  worth  $200,000;  making  the  value  of  exports  for  the 
western  part  of  the  State,  $1,170,000.  The  ports  of  Wisconsin  in  the 
district  of  Mackinac  probably  add  at  least  a  value  of  $5,000,000  to  the 
trade  of  Wisconsin.  The  total  lumber  trade  of  1852  has  been  given  at 
211,000,000  feet,  viz.,  from  Black  river,  15.000,000 ;  Chippewa,  28,500,000 ; 
Green  Bay,  28,000,000;  Manitoowoc,  24,500,000  ;  St.  Croix,  20,000,000; 
Wisconsin,  70,000,000 ;  and  Wolf  river,  25,000,000.  The  total  valua- 
tion of  lead  exported  from  Galena  (nine-tenths  of  which,  according  to 
Hunt's  Gazetteer  of  Wisconsin,  was  from  that  State)  and  the  ports  on 
Lake  Michigan,  was  $3,459,075;  besides  considerable  quantities  shipped 
from  points  on  the  Mississippi  and  Wisconsin  rivers.  The  largest  ship- 
ment of  lead  within  the  12  years  preceding  and  including  1853  was 
54,494,862  pounds;  and  the  lowest,  28,603,960  pounds,  most  of  which 
was  from  the  mines  of  Wisconsin. 

Education. — In  39  counties  out  of  45,  reported  December  31,  1853, 
there  were  138,279  children  between  the  ages  of  4  and  20  years,  of  whom 
95,293  attended  school;  number  of  school  districts,  2,072;  school  fund, 
$1,141,804,  yielding  an  income  of  nearly  $80,000;  and  a  university 
fund  of  $93,732,  the  income  of  which  is  devoted  to  the  State  university. 
According  to  the  census  of  1850,  Wisconsin  had  2  colleges,  with  75 
students  and  $4,700  income,  of  which  $400  was  from  endowments ; 
1,423  public  schools,  with  58,817  pupils  and  $113,133  income,  of  which 
$86,391  was  from  taxation,  and  $21,993  from  public  funds;  and  58 
academies  and  other  schools  with  2,723  pupils  and  $18,796  income. 
Attending  schools,  as  returned  by  families,  56,421.  Adults  who  could 
not  read  or  write,  6,453,  of  whom  4,902  were  of  foreign  birth.  It  is 
expected  that  ere  long  the  lands  appropriated  for  the  support  of  schools 
will  form  a  fund  of  from  $3,000,000  to  $5,000,000.  Public  instruction 
is  under  the  charge  of  a  State  superintendent,  receiving  $1,000  per 
annum.  There  have  been  granted  for  the  support  of  a  State  university, 
46,080  acres  of  land.  There  are  also  other  colleges  and  academics  sup- 
ported by  private  subscription,  which  are  promising  institutions. 

Beli&ious  Denominations. — Of  306  churches  in  Wisconsin  in  1850, 
the  Baptists  owned  49,  the  Christians  4,  the  Congregationalists  37,  the 
Dutch  Reformed  2,  the  Episcopalians  19,  th^  Free  Cliurch  2,  the  Luther- 
ans 20,  the  Methodists  110,  the  Presbyterians  40,  the  Roman  Catholics 
64,  the  Union  cliurch  1,  the  Universalists  6,  and  minor  sects  11.  Giving 
1  church  to  every  835  inhabitants.     Value  of  church  property,  $353,900. 

Periodicals. — There  were  published  in  the  State,  in  1850,6  daily,  4 
tri-weekly,  and  35  weekly  newspapers,  and  1  monthly  magazine,  with  an 
aggregate  annual  circulation  of  2,665,487  copies. 

Public  Institutions. — The  Wisconsin  Blind  Asylum,  at  Jancsville, 
founded  in  1850,  is  supported  by  a  tax  of  oae-fifth  of  a  mill  ou  every 


558  WISCONSIN. 

dollar  of  taxable  property,  and  had  13  inmates  in  January,  1854,  educa- 
ted at  an  expense  of  §2,421.  The  State  appropriated  $1,500  for  its 
support  in  1853.  The  Deaf  and  Dumb  Asylum  at  Delavan,  established 
in  1852,  bad  14  inmates  in  January,  1854.  The  State  Prison  at  Waupan, 
■Fond-du-Lac  county,  had  G4  inmates  in  1854. 

PoPUL.\TiON. — This  flourishing  scion  of  the  West  has  had  a  growth 
unexampled  even  in  that  thriving  region,  having  increased  from  30,945 
n  1840,  to  a  population  of  305,391  in  1850;  of  whom  164,351  were 
white  males;  140,405  white  females;  365  free  colored  males;  and  270 
free  colored  females.  The  population  was  divided  into  57,608  familes, 
occupying  56,316  dwellings.  Population  to  the  square  mile,  566.  Of 
the  entire  population,  63,015  only  were  born  in  the  State;  134,897  in 
other  States  of  the  confederacy;  8,277  in  British  America;  34,515  in 
Germany;  775  in  France;  18,952  in  England;  21,043  in  Ireland, 
3,527  in  Scotland;  4,319  in  Wales;  4  in  Spain;  4  in  Portugal;  45  in 
Belgium;  1,157  in  Holland;  9  in  Italy;  61  in  Austria;  1,244  in  Switz- 
erland; 71  in  Russia;  8,651  in  Norway,  146  in  Denmark;  88  in  Swe- 
den ;  3,545  in  Prussia;  1  in  Sardinia;  1  in  Greece ;  17  in  Asia;  1  in 
Africa;  9  in  Mexico;  11  in  Central  America;  6  in  South  America;  20 
in  West  Indies;  1  in  Sandwich  Islands  ;  191  in  other  countries,  and  784 
whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown — showing  nearly  35  per  cent,  of 
foreign  birth,  and  exhibiting  a  greater  variety  than  is  usual,  even  in  the 
very  diversified  population  of  the  other  parts  of  the  Union.  It  will  be 
observed  that  a  new  element,  or  at  least  in  much  greater  proportion  than 
elsewhere,  has  been  introduced  by  the  emigration  of  considerable  bodies 
of  Norwegians,  being  about  two-thirds  of  the  whole  number  of  that 
nation  born  in  the  United  States.  The  emigration  from  Germany  and 
Wales  is  also  in  greater  proportion  tlian  in  the  other  States.  Of  the 
entire  population  in  1850,  794  were  engaged  in  mining;  7,047  in  agri- 
culture; 479  in  commerce:  1814  in  manufactures;  14  in  navigating 
the  ocean;  209  in  the  internal  navigation;  and  259  in  the  learned  pro- 
fessions. 

Counties. — Wisconsin  is  divided  into  49  counties,  viz.,  Adams,  Bad 
Axe,  Brown,  Buffalo,  Calumet,  Chippewa,  Columbia,  Crawford,  Dane, 
Dodge,  Door,  Douglass,  Dunn,  Fond-du-lac,  Grant,  Green,  Iowa,  Jack- 
son, Jeiferson,  Kenosha,  Kewaunee,  La  Cros^se,  Lafayette,  Lapointe, 
Manitoowoc,  Marathon,  Marquette,  Milwaukie,  Monroe,  Oconto,  Outa- 
gamie, Ozaukee,  Pierce,  Polk,  Portage,  Racine,  Richland,  Rock,  St. 
Croix,  Sauk,  Shawana,  Sheboygan,  Trempealean,  Walworth,  Wash- 
ington, Waukesha,  Waupacca,  Waushara,  and  Winnebago.  Capital, 
Madison. 

Cities  and  Towns. — Towns  are  springing  up  in  Wisconsin  as  if  bj 
magic,  and  a  region  that  but  a  few  years  ago  was  mostly  an  Indian 
hunting-ground,  is  now  dotted  over  with  them.  The  principal  of  these 
are  Milwaukee,  population,  20,061;  Racine,  5,111;  Kenosha,  3,455; 
Janesville,  3,451  ;  Waukesha,  2,313 ;  Platteville,  2,197;  and  Fond-du- 
lac,  2,014.  These,  in  1853,  according  to  De  Bov/'s  Compendium  of  the 
Census,  had,  in  the  order  named  (with  the  exception  of  Platteville,  not 
given,)  25,000;    7,500;   5,000;    4,000;    and  4,000  each,  respectively. 


WISCONSIN.  559 

Besides  these  there  are  Bcloit,  Madison,  Green  Bay,  Portage,  Ozaukee, 
Mineral  Point,  Oshkosh,  Watertown,  Sheboygan,  and  Manitoowoc,  having 
populations  from  2,000  to  4,000  each. 

Government,  Finances,  Banks,  etc. — The  governor  is  elected  by 
the  people  for  2  years,  and  receives  $1,250  per  annum.  Wisconsin  has 
also  a  lieutenant-governor,  elected  for  a  like  period,  who  is  ex-officio 
president  of  the  Senate,  and  receives  $5  a  day  during  the  session  of  the 
Legislature.  The  Senate  consists  of  18  members,  and  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives of  54 ;  both  elected  by  the  people  for  2  years.  The  Legislature 
meets  on  the  first  Monday  in  January.  Every  white  male  of  24  years 
of  age,  who  shall  have  resided  in  the  State  one  year  next  preceding  an 
election  ;  white  males  of  foreign  birth,  who  shall  have  declared  their  in- 
tentions of  becoming  citizens  in  due  form ;  and  civilized  Indians,  or  Indi- 
ans who  have  been  once  declared  by  Congress  citizens,  shall  bo  entitled 
to  a  vote.  The  State  has  an  emigrant  officer  resident  in  New  York  city. 
The  judiciary  consists — 1.  Of  a  supreme  court,  composed  of  3  judges; 
2.  Of  circuit  courts,  which  hold  two  sessions,  at  least,  a  year  in  each 
county;  and  3.  Of  county  courts  and  justices  of  the  peace.  (Except  to 
issue  writs  of  mandamus,  quo  warranto,  etc.,  the  supreme  court  is  only 
an  appeal  court,  and  has  no  jury  trials.)  All  judges  are  elected  by  the 
people,  the  supreme  and  circuit  judges  for  6  years,  and  the  county  judges 
for  4.  The  supreme  judges  receive  salaries  of  $2,000,  and  the  circuit 
judges  $1,500  per  annum  each.  The  assessed  value  of  property  in  Wis- 
consin in  1850  was  $26,715,525  ;  and  $64,285,714  in  1854.  State  debt, 
in  1854,  $100,000.  Annual  expenses,  exclusive  of  schools  and  debt, 
$40,000.  There  were  23  banks  in  the  State,  January  1,  1855,  with  a 
capital  of  $1,400,000,  a  circulation  of  $740,764,  and  $334,388  in  coin. 

History. — Wisconsin  was  visited  at  a  very  early  period  by  the  French 
missionaries  and  discoverers,  and  a  settlement  made  by  the  French  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century.  There  was  no  considerable  influx 
of  emigration,  however,  till  quite  recently;  but  it  is  likely  to  repay  amply 
for  its  tardiness,  by  the  unexampled  rapidity  with  which  emigration  flows 
thither,  invited  by  its  rich  soil,  valuajjle  minerals,  beautiful  lakes,  and 
rolling  prairies.  Wisconsin  was  formed  into  a  territory  in  1836,  and 
admitted  into  the  Union  as  an  independent  State  in  1848. 

Milwaukie. — A  city,  port  of  entry,  capital  of  Milwaukie  county,  and 
the  most  populous  town  of  Wisconsin,  is  situated  on  the  west  shore  of 
Lake  Michigan,  at  the  mouth  of  Milwaukie  river,  90  miles  north  of  Chi- 
cago, and  75  miles  east  of  Madison.  Latitude  43°  3' 45"  north,  and  lon- 
gitude 87°  57'  west.  It  is  pleasantly  situated  on  the  flats  bordering  the 
river,  and  on  the  bluffs  which  rise  abruptly  from  the  margin  of  the  lake 
to  the  hight  of  about  100  feet.  The  river  approaches  from  the  north  in 
a  direction  nearly  parallel  with  the  lake  shore,  and  is  joined  about  1  milo 
from  its  mouth,  by  the  Menomonee  river,  which  comes  from  the  west. 
The  largest  boats  of  the  lake  can  ascend  the  river  2  miles  from  its  mouth. 
The  general  appearance  of  the  city  is  peculiar  and  striking,  from  the  color 
and  superior  quality  of  the  bricks  manufactured  here.  They  have  a 
delicate  and  enduring  cream  or  straw  color,  which  is  highly  agreeable  to 
the  eye,  and  is  not  aflectcd  by  the  action  of  the  elements.     Many  of 


560  "v\isco.\six. 

these  bricks  aro  exported  to  distant  parts  of  the  Union.  Milwaukie 
contains  about  oO  churches,  of  ■which  2ti  are  Protestant  and  -4  Roman 
Catholic,  5  public  schools,  the  Milwaukie  University  Institute,  a  female 
college,  several  academies,  3  orphan  asylums,  and  other  benevolent  insti- 
tutions. The  public  press  consists  of  7  daily  newspapers,  and  about  the 
same  number  of  ■weekly  issues.  There  are  H  or  4  banks,  and  several  in- 
surance companies.  The  streets,  stores,  etc.,  are  lighted  with  gas.  In 
1853  the  citizens  voted  a  loan  of  $50,000,  to  be  expended  in  the  improve- 
ment of  the  harbor,  Congress  having  previously  appropriated  §15,000 
to  that  purpose. 

The  5lilwaukie  and  Mississippi  railroad  has  recently  been  completed 
from  this  place  to  Madison.  Other  railroads  are  in  progress  to  Chicago, 
Green  Bay,  Beloit,  etc.  Plank-roads  extend  from  the  city  in  six  direc- 
tions, with  an  aggregate  length  of  about  200  miles.  Milwaukie  is  the 
outlet  of  the  productions  of  a  rich  and  rapidly  improving  country.  The 
following  quantities  of  produce  where  shipped  here  in  1852,  viz. :  394,386 
bushels  of  wheat;  345,620  of  barley;  428,800  of  oats;  88,597  barrels 
of  flour;  1,771,314  pounds  of  pork  in  bulk;  19,603  barrels  of  pork; 
321,121  pounds  of  wool;  about  1,000,000  pounds  of  lead,  and  700,000 
bricks.  Tonnage  of  vessels  owned  here  in  1854,  14,217.  During  the 
year  26  schooners,  of  2,946  tons,  were  built.  The  navigation  is  usually 
open  about  8  months  in  the  year,  from  March  to  November.  Milwaukie 
enjoys  a  healthy  climate,  the  great  lakes  having  a  sensible  influence  in 
modifying  the  extremes  of  heat  and  cold.  The  mean  annual  temperature 
in  3  years  was  47°.  The  extensive  water-power  of  the  river  constitutes 
an  important  element  in  the  prosperity  of  Milwaukie.  At  the  head  of 
the  navigable  part  of  the  river  a  dam  has  been  built,  which  raises  the 
water  12  feet,  and  a  canal  conveys  it  to  the  city.  Here  are  5  large  flour- 
ing-mills,  a  woolen  factory,  several  machine  shops,  and  other  establish- 
ments. The  reported  value  of  articles  manufactured  in  1852  was  over 
$2,000,000.  Milwaukie  is  remarkable  for  the  rapidity  of  its  growth, 
which  has  not  been  surpassed,  if  equalled,  by  any  of  the  western  towns. 
It  maintains  intimate  relations  with  a  region  to  which  a  vast  emigration 
is  flowing — a  region  which  a  few  years  ago  was  a  solitary  waste,  or  a  field 
of  savage  warfare,  but  is  now  appropriated  to  the  peaceful  pursuits  and 
liberal  institutions  of  civilized  society.  The  place  was  settled  in  1835. 
The  city  was  incorporated  in  January,  1846.  Population  in  1840,  1.751 ; 
in  1850,  20,061  ;  in  1854,  about  30,000. 

Racine,  capital  of  Racine  county,  is  beautifully  situated  on  the  west 
shore  of  Lake  Michigan,  at  the  mouth  of  Root  river,  25  miles  south  by 
east  of  Milwaukie,  and  70  miles  north  of  Chicago.  It  is  the  second 
city  of  the  State  in  population  and  commerce,  and  has  one  of  the  best 
harbors  on  the  lake,  formed  by  the  mouth  of  the  river,  which  admits 
vessels  drawing  12  feet  of  water.  The  city  is  built  on  a  plain  elevated 
about  40  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  lake.  It  is  laid  out  in  regular 
blocks,  with  wide  streets,  and  contains  a  number  of  fine  public  buildings; 
among  which  is  the  Racine  college,  founded  by  the  Episcopal  church. 
Racine  contains  12  Protestant  and  2  Catholic  churches,  a  central  high 
school,  and  a  bank  in  successful  operation.     Several  newspapers  are 


WISCONSIN.  561 

published  here.  The  commercial  advantages  of  this  port  have  attracted 
considerable  capital,  and  there  are  10  warehouses  and  126  mercantile 
houses  in  various  branches  of  business.  Over  $60,000  have  been  ex- 
pended by  the  citizens  of  Ilacine  in  the  construction  of  a  harbor.  From 
30  to  40  vessels  are  owned  here,  with  an  agregate  burden  of  over  4,000 
tons.  The  exports  in  1851  amounted  in  value  to  $1,034,590,  and  the 
imports  to  $1,473,125.  There  are  3  ship-yards,  and  several  furnaces, 
machine-shops,  and  flouring  mills.  Three  plank-roads  extend  from 
Racine  into  the  interior,  and  railroads  are  in  course  of  construction  to 
Chicago,  Milwaukie,  and  Janesville.  First  settled  in  1835;  incorporated 
as  a  city  in  1848.  Population  in  1840,  837  j  in  1850,  5,111;  in  1853, 
about  7,500. 

Madison,  capital  of  the  State  of  Wisconsin,  and  seat  of  justice  of 
Dane  county,  is  pleasantly  situated  on  an  isthmus  between  Third  lake 
and  Fourth  lake,  80  miles  west  of  Milwaukie,  and  154  miles  north-west 
of  Chicago,  in  latitude  43°  5'  north,  longitude  89°  20'  west.  It  stands 
in  the  center  of  a  broad  valley,  surrounded  by  hights  from  which  the 
town  can  be  seen  at  a  distance  of  several  miles.  The  isthmus  is  about 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  in  width.  Fourth  lake,  which  lies  on  the  north- 
west side  of  the  town,  is  6  miles  long  by  4  miles  wide.  It  is  a  beautiful 
sheet  of  water,  with  clean  gravelly  shores.  The  depth  is  sufiicient  for 
navigation  by  steamboats,  and  is  estimated  at  about  60  feet.  The  Third 
lake  is  rather  smaller.  When  this  place  was  selected  for  the  seat  of 
government,  in  1836,  it  contained  no  buildings  but  a  solitary  log  cabin. 
The  Capitol,  which  is  a  limestone  structure,  built  at  an  expense  of  $50,- 
000,  stands  on  ground  70  feet  above  the  level  of  the  lakes,  and  is  sur- 
rounded by  a  public  square.  The  streets  which  lead  from  the  Capitol 
towards  the  cardinal  points  descend  gradually  to  the  shores  of  the  lakes 
excepting  the  one  which  extends  westward  to  College  Hill.  On  this 
eminence,  1  mile  west  of  the  Capitol,  and  about  125  feet  above  the  lake, 
is  situated  the  University  of  Wisconsin,  which  was  instituted  in  1849. 
Three  newspapers  are  published.  It  contains  a  bank,  5  or  6  churches, 
26  stores,  an  iron  foundery,  a  woolen  factory,  and  several  steam-mills. 
The  author  of  "Western  Portraiture"  gives  the  following  lively  sketch 
of  this  place  and  its  environs :  "  Madison  jjerhaps  combines  and  over- 
looks more  charming  and  diversified  scenery  to  please  the  eye  of  fancy 
and  promote  health  and  pleasure,  than  any  other  town  in  the  west;  and 
in  these  respects  it  surpasses  every  other  State  capital  in  the  Union,  Its 
bright  lakes,  fresh  groves,  rippling  rivulets,  shady  dales,  and  flowery 
meadow  lawns,  are  commingled  m  greater  profusion,  and  disposed  in  more 
picturesque  order  than  we  have  ever  elsewhere  beheld.  *  *  *  Nor  is 
it  less  noteworthy  for  its  business  advantages  and  its  healthful  position. 
Situated  on  elevated  ground,  amid  delightful  groves  and  productive  lauds, 
well  above  the  cool,  clear  lakes,  it  must  be  healthy:  while  the  abundance 
and  convenience  of  fine  streams  and  water-power  must  facilitate  a  sound 
and  rapid  advancement  in  agriculture  and  the  mechanic  arts.  There  are 
also  liberal  charters  for  railroads  connecting  Madison  with  Milwaukie,  Chi- 
cago, and  the  Mississippi,  some  of  which  are  being  pushed  ahead  with 
o^.'^'-ofv."     Hallway  communication   with  Milwaukie  is  now  completed. 


5G2  ILLINOIS. 

Population   iu   1840,  376;  in  1850,  1,525;  in    1853,   about  3,500;  in 
1855,  C,863. 

Kenosha,  formerly  Southport,  a  flourishing  town  of  Southport  town- 
ship, capital  of  Kenosha  county,  Wisconsin,  is  situated  on  a  bluff  on  the 
west  shore  of  Lake  Michigan,  55  miles  north  of  Chicago,  and  35  miles 
south  of  Milwaukie.  It  is  the  most  south  lake  port  in  Wisconsin,  and 
has  a  good  harbor,  with  piers  extending  into  Lake  Micliigan.  The  town 
was  commenced  in  183G;  in  1840  it  had  337  inhabitants;  since  which 
date  it  has  increased  very  rapidly.  The  adjacent  country  is  a  beautiful, 
fertile  prairie,  in  which  extensive  improvements  have  been  made.  A 
plank-road,  about  20  miles  long,  connects  this  place  with  Fox  river, 
of  Illinois,  and  railroads  are  in  progress  to  Chicago,  Milwaukie,  and 
Rock  river.  The  chief  articles  of  export  are  wheat,  flour,  oats,  pork,  and 
wool.  In  1851  the  total  value  of  exports  amounted  to  §661,228,  and  of 
imports  to  §1,306,856.  The  town  contains  1  bank  and  3  newspaper 
offices.     Population  in  1850,  3,455;  in  1853,  about  5,000. 


ILLINOIS. 


This  State  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Wisconsin,  east  by  Lake 
Michigan  and  Indiana,  from  the  last  of  which  it  is  partly  separated  by 
the  Wabash  river,  south  by  the  Ohio  river,  which  separates  it  from 
Kentucky,  and  south-west  and  west  by  Missouri  and  Iowa,  from  which 
it  is  separated  by  the  Mississippi  river.  It  lies  between  37°  and  42°  30' 
north  latitude,  and  between  87°  30'  and  91°  40'  west  longitude,  being 
about  380  miles  in  extreme  length  from  north  to  south,  and  about  200  in 
its  greatest,  and  140  miles  in  its  average  breadth,  including  55,409 
square  miles,  or  35,459,200  acres,  of  which  only  5,039,545  acres  were 
improved  in  1850,  showing  an  immense  capacity  for  increase  of  popula- 
tion in  this  exuberantly  fertile  State,  which  has  scarcely  any  soil 
UDCultivable. 

Face  of  the  Country. — Illinois  is  generally  a  table-land,  elevated 
from  350  to  800  feet  above  the  level  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  with  a 
general  inclination  from  north  to  south,  as  indicated  by  the  course  of  the 
rivers.  This  State,  generally  speaking,  may  be  characterized  as  level, 
though  there  are  elevated  bluff's  on  the  Illinois  river,  and  still  higher 
ones  on  the  Mississippi.  There  is  a  small  tract  of  hilly  country  in  the 
south;  and  in  the  north-west  is  a  good  deal  of  broken  land.     Many  of  the 


ILLINOIS.  563 

prairies  are  quite  small,  but  others  are  very  large;  among  the  latter  is 
Grand  Praire,  extending  from  Jackson  county,  in  a  north-east  direction, 
to  Iroquois  county,  and  varying  in  width  from  1  to  more  than  12  miles. 
This  is  probably  the  highest  land  between  the  Mississippi  and  the 
"Wabash.  The  prairie  is  everywhere  skirted  with  wood,  and  on  its 
border  is  a  circle  of  settlements,  which  have  been  here  located  on  account 
of  the  timber.  The  prairies  are  interspersed  with  groups  of  trees,  but 
the  timber  is  generally  sparse  on  them,  which,  however  seems  not  to 
arise  from  any  thing  unfivorable  in  the  soil,  but  from  the  annual  burn- 
ing of  the  prairie  grass ;  for,  whore  this  is  prevented,  a  forest  of  young 
trees  speedily  springs  up,  and  farmers  are  thus  enabled  to  proceed  in- 
ward with  settlements,  as  it  were,  tier  after  tier.  The  prairies  are  not 
generally  flat,  but  gracefully  undulating,  and  profusely  decked  with  the 
greatest  variety  of  bea'utiful  wild  flowers  of  every  hue,  whicb  ravish  the 
beholder  with  delight. 

Minerals. — Illinois  has  within  her  limits  a  large  portion  of  the 
great  lead  region,  which  she  shares  with  Iowa  and  Wisconsin.  Gralena, 
in  the  north-west  part  of  the  State,  is  almost  wholly  supported  by  trade 
in  this  mineral.  More  than  13,000,000  pounds  (including  that  of 
Wisconsin)  have  been  smelted  in  one  year.  Bituminous  coal  occurs  in 
almost  every  county,  and  may  be  often  obtained  without  excavation. 
Vast  beds  are  found  in  the  bluffs  adjacent  to  the  American  Bottom.  A 
bed  of  anthracite  coal  is  reported  to  have  been  discovered  in  Jackson 
county.  According  to  Taylor,  the  coal-fields  of  Illinois  occupy  an  area 
of  44,000  square  miles.  Copper  abounds  in  the  north  part,  on  Plum 
Creek,  and  on  the  Peckatonica  river.  It  has  also  been  found  in  Jackson 
and  Monroe  counties.  Iron  exists  in  the  south  part,  and  is  said  to  be 
abundant  in  the  north.  Lime,  zinc,  some  silver,  (i-eportecl  in  St.  Clair 
county,)  marble  of  a  fine  quality,  freestone,  gypsum,  and  quartz  crystals 
are  the  other  minerals.  There  are  salt-springs  in  Gallatin,  Jackson,  and 
Vermilion  counties,  leased  by  the  Slate.  Medicinal  springs,  chiefly 
sulphur  and  chalybeate,  are  found  in  various  parts,  and  one  especially,  in 
Jefferson  county,  is  much  resorted  to.  In  the  southern  part  of  the  State 
is  one  strongly  impregnated  with  Epsom  salts.  Others  of  medicinal 
properties  are  found  between  Ottawa  and  Peru. 

liiVERS. — The  rivers  of  Illinois  have  generally  cut  channels  through 
the  table-land  or  plain  which  they  drain,  presenting  precipitous  bluffs, 
sometimes  close  to  the  river's  brink,  and  at  other  times  leaving  an 
alluvion  bottom  between  the  river  and  the  bluffs.  The  Mississippi 
forms  the  entire  western,  and  the  Ohio  river  the  entire  southern  boun- 
dary, giving  the  State  commercial  access  to  the  great  valleys  bearing 
the  names  of  their  respective  rivers.  The  Illinois  river  is  formed  by  the 
Kankakee  from  Indiana,  and  the  Des  Plaioes  from  Wisconsin,  in  the 
north-east  of  the  State,  and  crossing  the  middle  of  the  State,  after  a 
course  of  500  miles  from  its  remotest  source,  empties  itself  into  the 
Mississippi.  The  Rock  river  rises  in  Wisconsin,  and  the  Kaskaskia  in 
the  middle  of  Illinois;  both  flow  south-west  into  the  Mississippi.  The 
Sangamon  empties  itself  into  the  Illinois  80  miles  above  its  mouth,  after 
a  westerly  course   of  about  200  miles.     Besides   the   Kankakee,    Des 


564  ILLINOIS. 

riaincs,  and  Fox  rivers,  which  are  its  principal  sources,  the  Illinois  has 
a  uurabor  of  smaller  tributaries.  The  AVabash,  which  receives  the 
waters  that  drain  the  east  part  of  the  State,  forms  the  east  boundary 
for  more  than  100  miles.  Lake  Michigan  bounds  the  State  on  the 
north-east  for  GO  miles,  and  adds  greatly  to  its  commercial  importance. 
Lake  Peoria,  an  expansion  of  the  Illinois  river,  near  the  middle  of  the 
State,  and  Lake  Pishtaka,  in  the  north-east,  are  the  only  other  lakes  of 
any  importance.  The  Illinois  has  a  sluggish  current,  and  in  time  of 
freshets  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi  back  up  into  it  for  70  miles.  It  is 
navigable  for  steamboats  286  miles,  and  at  high  water  boats  proceed 
beyond  the  rapids  above  Vermilion  river.  Eock  river  has  obstructions 
near  its  mouth,  but,  notwithstanding,  both  it  and  the  Kaskaskia,  as  well 
as  the  Sangamon  and  Spoon,  are  navigable  for  a  considerable  distance  at 
high  water  by  steamboats,  and  still  higher  for  small  boats. '  The  Wabash 
is  navigable  for  steamboats  beyond  the  point  where  it  first  touches  the 
Illinois  boundary.  The  rivers  flowing  into  the  Wabash  from  Illinois  are 
the  Vermilion,  Embarras,  and  Little  Wabash,  having  courses  of  from 
100  to  150  miles.     The  Embarras  is  navigable  for  keel-boats. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — Though  Illinois  pi-esents  but 
few  bold  or  very  striking  features  to  the  view  of  the  traveler,  she  is  not 
without  her  objects  of  interest  to  the  lover  of  nature.  Her  wide-spread 
prairies,  decked  with  flowers  of  every  hue  that  can  gratify  the  eye,  and 
covered  with  waving  grass,  convey,  besides  their  quiet  landscape  beauty, 
a  feeling  of  sublimity  from  their  vastness,  similar  to  that  created  by 
viewing  the  ocean ;  and  perhaps  no  natural  objects  in  our  country  would 
more  strike  the  European  than  our  prairies — especially  the  Grand 
Prairie,  which  has  already  been  referred  to.  The  river  bluff's  inspire  the 
same  sense  of  rugged  grandeur  as  mountains,  though  in  a  less  degree. 
The  most  remarkable  of  these  are  on  the  Mississippi,  and  are  from  100 
to  400  feet  high.  Fountain  bluff",  on  the  Mississippi  river,  in  Jackson 
county,  is  of  an  oval  shape,  6  miles  in  circuit,  and  300  feet  high.  The 
top  is  full  of  sink-holes.  Starved  rock  and  Lover's  leap  are  each 
eminences  on  Illinois  river.  The  former  is  a  perpendicular  mass  of 
limestone  and  sandstone,  8  miles  below  Ottawa,  and  150  feet  above  the 
river.  It  received  its  name  from  a  band  of  Illinois  Indians  having  taken 
refuge  here,  who,  being  surrounded  by  the  Pottawatoraies,  all  died,  not 
of  starvation,  but  of  thirst.  Lover's  leap  is  a  ledge  of  precipitous  rocks, 
some  distance  above  Starved  rock.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river, 
and  nearly  opposite  to  the  Lover's  leap,  is  Buffalo  rock,  100  feet  high, 
precipitous  next  the  river,  but  sloping  inland.  Hither  the  Indians 
.formerly  drove  the  buffalo,  and  frightening  them  by  shouts,  caused  them 
to  crowd  each  other  over  the  precipice.  The  cave  in  the  rock,  in  Hardin 
county,  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  presents,  as  you  approach  it,  the 
appearance  of  a  vast  mass  of  rocks,  some  resembling  castellated  ruins, 
and  others  jutting  out  irregularly  in  a  variety  of  forms.  The  entrance 
of  the  cave,  which  is  but  little  above  the  bed  of  the  river,  is  a  semicircle, 
80  feet  wide  and  25  feet  high.  The  cave  ascends  gradually  from  its 
entrance  to  the  extreme  limit,  180  feet  back  from  the  mouth.  A  small 
opening  leads  into   the  second  cave,  whose  dimensions  are  not  known. 


ILLINOIS.  565 

This  cave  was,  in  1797,  the  abode  of  a  band  of  robbers,  who  sallied  out 
to  rob  the  unfortunate  boatmen  and  emigrants.  It  has  since  been  tbe 
abode  of  other  bands  of  robbers.  The  miners,  in  sinkhig  their  shafts  in 
the  lead  region,  often  come  upon  caverns  at  the  depth  of  40,  70,  and 
even  100  feet,  which  present  brillinnt  specimens  of  stalactites,  stalag- 
mites, and  other  varieties  of  calcareous  spar,  and  resemblances  of  leaves, 
birds,  animals,  etc.  In  some  caves,  sulphate  of  lime,  in  different  crys- 
talized  f  )rms,  is  found.  l>leav  Caliokia  is  a  mound  2,000  feet  in  circum- 
ference, and  90  feet  high.  There  is  great  inducement  for  the  sportsman 
to  visit  Illinois,  to  shoot  the  prairie-hen,  a  species  of  pheasant  or  grouse, 
and  to  fish  for  trout  in  the  clear  streams  in  the  northern  part  of  the 
State. 

Climate,  Soil,  and  Productions. — Illinois,  extending  through  more 
than  5°  of  latitude,  has  considerable  variety  of  climate.  Though  some- 
what milder  than  the  Atlantic  States  in  the  same  parallels,  there  is  great 
irregularity  in  the  seasons.  Generally,  there  will  not  fall  six  inches  of 
snow  at  one  time,  which  does  not  lie  more  than  a  few  days,  but  at  dis- 
tant intervals  the  rivers  are  frozen  for  two  or  three  months,  and  the 
snow  lies  for  as  long  a  period.  The  summers  are  hot,  but  mitigated  by 
the  fresh  breezes  from  the  prairies.  During  15  years,  peach-trees 
blossomed  from  March  25th  to  April  20th,  and  apple-trees  from  April 
1st  to  May  3d.  In  the  same  period,  the  earliest  frost  was  September 
17th,  but  sometimes  there  is  none  till  near  the  end  of  October.  Cattle 
often  are  unhoused  durino;  the  whole  winter.  The  meteorological  table 
kept  at  Muscatine,  Iowa,  (see  Iowa,)  will  perhaps  be  a  fair  average 
representation  of  the  temperature  of  Illinois. 

In  agricultural  capabilities  Illinois  is  unsurpassed,  if  equalled,  by  any 
State  in  the  American  Confederacy.  In  some  of  her  river-bottoms  the 
soil  is  25  feet  deep,  and  the  upland  prairies  are  but  little  inferior  in 
fertility.  The  Great  American  bottom,  lying  on  the  Mississippi,  be- 
tween the  mouths  of  the  Kaskaskia  and  Missouri  river,  is  of  exceeding 
fertility,  and  has  been  cultivated  for  100  years  without  apparent  de- 
terioration. This  bottom  is  about  80  miles  in  length,  covering  an  area 
of  288,000  acres.  On  the  river  side  is  a  strip  of  heavy  timber,  with 
dense  underwood,  which  extends  for  2  or  3  miles.  The  rest  is  mostly 
prairie  to  the  east  limit,  which  is  terminated  by  a  chain  of  sandy  or 
rocky  bluifs  from  50  to  200  feet  high.  This  fine  region  is,  however,  not 
healthy,  though  probably  capable  of  being  made  so  by  drainage.  The 
Ilock  river  country  is  another  highly  fertile  district,  on  the  liock  river 
and  its  branches.  Of  the  same  character  are  the  regions  about  the 
Sangamon,  Kaskaskia,  and  other  rivers.  Other  regions  of  Illinois  are 
fertile ;  but  those  mentioned  pre-eminently  so,  producing  not  unfre- 
quently  40  bushels  of  wheat  and  100  of  Indian  corn  to  the  acre.  This 
is  especially  true  of  the  narrow  river-bottoms  immediately  adjacent  to 
their  banks.  The  prairies  of  this  State  are  peculiarly  favorable  to  the 
raising  of  stock  and  the  productions  of  the  dairy.  Illinois  stands  third 
in  the  absolute  amount  of  Indian  corn  raised  in  the  States  of  the  Union, 
but  first,  if  we  regard  population  and  the  number  of  acres  under  cultiva- 
tion.    The  other  agricultural  staples  are  wheat,  oats,  Irish  potatoes,  hay, 


566  ILLINOIS. 

butter,  and  cheese.  Besides  these,  large  quantities  of  rye,  wool,  beans, 
peas,  barley,  buckwheat,  fruits,  garden  vegetables,  and  some  tobacco, 
sweet  potatoes,  wine,  grass-seeds,  hops,  hemp,  flax,  silk,  maple-sugar 
and  molasses,  beeswax  and  honey,  and  the  castor-bean  are  produced. 
Of  indigenous  fruits,  there  are  a  variety  of  berries,  plums,  grapos,  erab- 
applcs,  wild  cherries,  persimmons,  and  the  papaw,  (a  sweet,  pulpy  fruit, 
somewhat  like  the  banana.)  Of  orchard  fruits,  the  apple  and  peach 
flourish  best,  but  pears  and  quinces  are  cultivated  with  facility.  Of  nuts, 
the  shellbark  or  hickory,  walnut,  butternut,  a  wliite  waluut,  and  pecan 
abound.  According  to  the  census  reports  of  1850,  there  were  7G,li08 
farms  in  Illinois,  containing  5,039,545  acres  of  improved  land,  and  pro- 
ducing 9,414,575  bushels  of  wheat;  83,364  of  rye;  57,646,984  of  Indian 
corn;  10,087,241  of  oats;  82,874  of  peas  and  beans;  2,514,861  of  Irish 
potatoes;  157,433  of  sweet  potatoes;  110,795  of  barley ;  184,504  of  buck- 
wheat; 841,394  pounds  of  tobacco;  2,150,113  of  wool;  12,526,543  of 
butter;  1,278,225  of  cheese;  601,952  tons  of  hay;  17,807  bushels  of 
grass-seeds;  160,063  pounds  of  flax;  248,904  of  maple-sugar;  869,444 
of  beeswax  and  honey;  live  stock,  valued  at  824,209,258;  slaughtered 
animals,  at  84,972,286;  orchard  products,  at  $446,049,  and  market  pro- 
duce at  8127,494. 

Forest  Trees. — Illinois  contains  abundance  of  timber,  which,  how- 
ever, is  not  equally  difiused.  The  occupation  of  the  country  will, 
however,  remedy  this  deficiency  (even  in  parts  where  there  is  now  a 
scarcity)  by  protecting  the  young  trees  from  the  ravages  of  the  prairie 
fires.  The  bottom  lands  have  a  rich  growth  of  black  and  white  walnut, 
ash,  hackberry,  elm,  sugar-maple,  honey-locust,  buckeye  catalpa,  syca- 
more, (of  a  size  unknown  in  the  Atlantic  States,)  cottonwood,  pecan, 
hickory,  and  oak  of  various  species;  and  of  underwood,  redbud,  papaw, 
grape-vine,  eglantine,  dogwood,  spicebush,  hazel,  green-brier,  etc.  On 
the  uplands  are  post-oak  (very  valuable  for  fencing)  and  other  species  of 
oak,  blackjack,  (useless  except  for  fuel,)  hickory,  black  and  white  wal- 
nut, linn  or  basswood,  cherry,  etc.  The  white  and  yellow  poplar  are 
found  in  the  southern  part  of  the  State,  and  the  cypress  on  the  Ohio 
bottoms. 

Manufactures. — Illinois  is  not  largely  engaged  in  manufacturing, 
though  the  facilities  for  carrying  on  these  branches  of  industry  are  not 
wanting,  when  circumstances  shall  arrive  to  make  it  profitable  or  neces- 
sary. According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were  in  Illinois  3,099 
manufacturing  establishments,  each  producing  §500  and  upwards  an- 
nually, and  homemade  manufactures,  valued  at  81,155,902;  of  these  16 
were  engaged  in  the  fabrication  of  woolens,  employing  $154,500  capital, 
and  124  male  and  54  female  hands,  consuming  raw  material  worth  §115, 
364,  and  producing  306,995  yards  of  stuff's  and  137,000  pounds  of  yarn, 
with  a  total  value  of  8206,572 ;  31  furnaces,  forges,  &c.,  employing 
8325,400  capital,  and  482  male  hands,  consuming  8187,830  worth  of 
raw  materials,  and  producing  2,700  tons  of  pig,  and  4,160  tons  of  cast 
iron,  having  a  total  value  of  8511,385;  96  tanneries,  employing  8188,373 
capital,  consuming  raw  material  worth  8129,907,  and  producing  leather 
valued  at  8244,028. 


ILLINOIS.  567 

Internal  Improvements. — In  1836,  when  the  spirit  of  speculation 
was  rife  throughout  our  entire  nation,  Illinois  projected  an  extravagant 
system  of  railroads  and  canals,  which  shortly  resulted  (in  the  monetary 
revulsion  between  1837  and  18-40)  in  a  general  suspension.  Notwith- 
standing, that  spirit  of  enterprise  which  seems  to  grow  f\-om  our  free  S3'S- 
tem,  and  to  be  as  boundless  as  our  extended  Territory,  has  again,  with  more 
rational  views,  stimulated  the  citizens  of  this  State  to  enter  upon  a  still 
more  magnificent  scheme  of  railroads  than  that  projected  in  1836.  Besides 
these,  she  has  completed  her  great  canal,  100  miles  long,  from  Chicago  to 
Peru,  uniting  the  waters  of  Lake  Michigan  with  the  Mississippi  river. 

In  January,  1854,  there  were  in  operation  in  Illinois,  1,262  miles  of 
railroad,  and  2,017  in  course  of  construction.  Chicago  is  at  present  con- 
nected by  railroad,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  with  Detroit,  Cincinnati, 
Boston,  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  and  Beloit,  beyond  the 
State;  and  with  Galena,  Rock  Island,  Peoria,  Springfield,  Urbana,  Alton, 
Carlo,  and  intermediate  places  within  the  State.  Besides  these,  railroads 
unite  Carlo  with  Illinoistown,  opposite  St.  Louis ;  also  Springfield  with 
Jacksonville,  and  Naples  with  Mendosia.  The  Terre  Haute  and  Alton 
Piailroad  had  30  miles  at  the  eastern,  and  40  miles  at  the  western  end, 
completed  in  November,  1854 ;  and  it  is  expected  130  miles  of  the  road  will 
be  ready  for  use  in  the  spring  of  1855.  When  the  present  lines  under 
contract  shall  have  been  completed,  (and  they  are  rapidly  progressing,) 
Chicago  will  be  connected  with  every  important  point  in  the  State;  and 
through  other  railways  with  all  the  large  cities  in  the  United  States,  ex- 
cept San  Francisco.  Hailroads  connecting  Chicago  with  Madison  and 
Milwaukie,  in  Wisconsin,  are  fast  approaching  completion. 

Commerce. — Illinois  is  most  favoi-ably  situated  for  internal  trade, 
being  able  to  communicate  with  the  western,  southern,  and  central  parts 
of  the  Mississippi  valley,  by  means  of  the  Mississippi,  Missouri,  and 
Ohio  rivers,  and  with  the  northern  and  eastern  States  by  way  of  the  great 
lakes.  The  coastwise  imports  into  Chicago  in  1851,  amounted  to  $24,- 
410,400,  and  exports  to  $5,895,471;  and  in  the  year  1854,  this  city  ex- 
ported 13,726,728  bushels  of  grain,  believed  to  be  the  greatest  amount 
exported  by  any  city  in  the  world.  Tonnage  of  the  Chicago  district  in 
1853,  27,015  tons,  of  which  1,120  was  steam  tonnage.  In  the  same  year, 
9  vessels  were  built,  whose  burden  was  1,158  tons.  The  foreign  imports 
and  exports  are  trifling,  the  former  amounting,  in  1853,  to  $7,559,  and 
the  latter  to  $79,139.  Tonnage  entered,  2,130,  and  cleared,  2,288. 
Chicago  does  an  immense  business  in  lumber  and  general  trade,  and 
Galena  in  the  lead  trade;  the  farmer  received,  in  1853,  193,271,241  feet 
of  lumber,  125,638,500  shingles,  and  38,721,371  laths;  and  the  latter 
shipped  in  8  months  of  1852,  295,788  pigs  of  lead.  This  State  packed 
365,784  hogs  in  1853-54. 

Education. — According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were  in  Illinois, 
6  colleges,  with  442  students,  and  $13,300  income,  of  which  $4,500  was 
from  endowments;  4,054  public  schools,  with  125,790  pupils,  and  $349,- 
350  income,  of  which  $129,544  was  from  public  funds,  and  $100,694 
from  taxation;  81  academies  and  other  schools,  with  4,179  pupils,  and 
$40,488  income;  and  182,292  pupils  attending  schools,  as  returned  by 


568  ILLINOIS. 

families.  According  to  the  Ameiican  Almauao,  Illinois  had,  in  1853,  4 
collogos  with  22o  students,  1  medical  college  with  70  students;  and  1 
theological  school. 

The  school  fund  in  1858,  derived  from  tlic  public  lands,  the  surplu 
revenue  of  the  United  States,  aud  from  the  cdunty  an<l  township  funds 
yielded  an  income  of  8299,047.  On  the  foruiatiou  of  the  State  consti 
tutiou,  one  section  in  each  township  was  appropriated  to  the  support  of 
common  schools,  and  afterwards  an  additional  income  of  3  per  cent,  oa 
the  actual  proceeds  from  the  sale  of  the  public  lands  within  the  State. 
One-sixth  ot  these  proceeds  is  appropriated  to  the  colleges.  In  1850 
there  were  41,283  adults  in  this  State  who  could  not  read  and  write,  of 
whom  5,947  were  of  foreign  birth. 

Heligious  Denominations. — Of  the  1,223  churches  in  Illinois,  in 
1850,  the  Baptists  owned  282,  Christians  69,  Congregationalists  46, 
Dutch  lleformed,  2  Episcopalians  27,  Free  Church  2,  Friends  6,  German 
Eeformed  3,  Lutherans  42,  Methodists  405,  Moravians  2,  Presbyterians 
206,  Koman  Catholics  59,  Swedeuborgian  1,  Tunker  4,  Union  30,  Uni- 
tarian 4,  Universalists  7,  and  minor  sects  26 — giving  1  church  to  each 
699  persons.     Value  of  church  property,  $1,482,185. 

Periodicals. — There  were  published  in  Illinois,  in  1850,  8  daily,  4 
tri  and  semi-weekly,  and  84  weekly  newspapers;  3  semi-monthly,  7  month- 
ly, and  1  quarterly  magazines,  distributing  annually  5,102,276  copies. 

Public  Institutions. — Illinois  has  a  State  lunatic  as3'lum  at  Jack- 
sonville, a  State  penitentiary  at  Alton,  and  a  deaf  and  dumb  asylum  at 
Jacksonville,  which  had  109  pupils  in  1853,  94  of  whom  belonged  to  the 
State;  expenses  §19,000  per  annum.  According  to  the  census  of  1850, 
there  were  33  public  libraries  in  Illinois,  with  35,982  volumes;  115 
schools  and  Sunday-shcools,  with  13,704  volumes,  and  4  college  libraries, 
with  7,800  volumes. 

Population. — There  were  in  Illinois  12,282  inhabitants  in  1810; 
55,211  in  1820;  157,445  in  1830;  476,188  in  1840;  and  851,470  in 
1850,  of  whom  445,544  were  white  males,  400,490  white  females;  2,777 
colored  males,  and  2,659  colored  females.  The  ratio  of  increase  in  Illinois 
in  the  last  10  years  preceding  1850  was  nearly  79  per  cent.,  notwithstand- 
ing there  were  in  other  States  about  50,000  citizens  born  in  Illinois. 
This  population  was  divided  among  149,153  families,  occupying  146,544 
dwellings.  Population  to  the  square  mile,  1,537.  Of  the  entire  popula- 
tion, only  333,753  were  born  in  the  State;  402,396  in  other  States  of 
the  Union;  18,628  in  England;  27,786  in  Ireland;  4,661  in  Scotland; 
572  in  Wales;  10,699  in  British  America;  38,160  in  Germany;  3,396 
in  France;  6,691  in  other  countries,  and  3,946  whose  places  of  birth 
were  unknown.  In  the  year  ending  June  1,  1850,  797  paupers  had 
received  support,  of  whom  411  were  foreigners;  11,619  persons  died,  or 
about  14  in  every  1,000.  According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were 
365  deaf  and  dumb,  of  whom  2  were  colored ;  264  blind,  of  whom  5  were 
colored;  238  insane,  of  whom  2  were  colored;  and  363  idiotic,  of  whom  2 
were  colored.  Of  the  population,  782  were  engaged  in  mining,  105,337  in 
agriculture,  2,506,  in  commerce,  13,185  in  manufactures,  63  in  navigating 
the   ocean,  310  in  internal  navigation,  and  2,021  in  learned  professions. 


ILLINOIS.  569 

Counties. — Illinois  has  100  counties,  viz:  Adams,  Alexander,  Bond, 
Boone,  Brown,  Bureau,  Calhoun,  Carroll,  Cass,  Champaign,  Christian, 
Clarke,  Clay,  Clinton  Coles,  Cook,  Crawford,  Cumberland,  De  Kalb,  De 
Witt,  Du  Page,  Edgar,  Edwards,  Effingham,  Fayette,  Franklin,  Fulton, 
Gallatin,  Green,  Grundy,  Hamilton,  Hancock,  Hardin,  Henderson, 
Henry,  Iroquois,  Jackson,  Jasper,  Jefferson,  Jersey,  Jo  Daviess,  Johnson, 
Kane,  Kankakee,  Kendall,  Knox,  Lake,  La  Salle,  Lawrence,  Lee,  Liv- 
ingston, Logan,  McDonough,  McHcnry,  McLean,  Macon,  Macoupin, 
Madison,  Marion,  Marshall,  Massac,  Mason,  Menard,  Mercer,  Monroe, 
Montgomery,  Morgan,  Moultrie,  Ogle,  Peoria,  Perry,  Piatt,  Pike,  Pope, 
Pulaski,  Putnam,  Randolph,  Richland,  Rock  Island,  St.  Clair,  Saline, 
Sangamon,  Schuyler,  Scott,  Shelby,  Stark,  Stephenson,  Tazewell,  Union, 
Vermilion,  Wabash,  Warren,  Washington,  Wayne,  White,  Whitesides, 
Williamson,  Winnebago,  and  Woodford.     Capital,  Springfield. 

Cities  and  Towns. — Illinois  has  a  number  of  thriving  towns,  and  so 
rapidly  do  they  increase,  that  the  census  of  1850  will  be  in  many  cases 
far  below  the  truth ;  but,  for  want  of  other  reliable  information  on 
which  to  base  a  comparison  of  the  increase  of  all  the  towns,  it  will  be 
best  to  adhere  to  the  official  statistics.  Chicago  is  the  largest  city — pop- 
ulation, 29,963,  (said  to  be  70,000  in  1854;)  Quincey,  6,902;  Galena, 
6,004;  Peoria,  5,095;  (estimated  at  12,000  in  1854;)  Springfield,  4,533; 
and  Alton,  3,585;  besides  Peru,  Rock  Island,  1,711,  (5,337  in  1854;) 
Bridge  Prairie,  Waukegan,  2,949;  Belleville,  2,941;  Jacksonville,  2,- 
745;  Joliet,  2,659;  Elgin,  2,359;  St.  Charles,  2,132;  and  many  other 
flourishing  villages. 

Government. — The  executive  power  in  Illinois  is  lodged  in  a  governor 
and  lieutenant-governor,  elected  by  the  people  for  4  years;  the  former 
receiving  $1,500  per  annum,  and  the  latter,  who  is  ex-officio  president 
of  the  Senate,  $3  per  day  during  the  session  of  the  legislature.  The 
governor  is  ex-officio  fund  commi^^sioner,  and  is  only  eligible  for  4  years 
out  of  any  8  years.  The  Senate  consists  of  25,  and  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives of  75  members,  both  elected  by  the  people,  the  former  for  4, 
and  the  latter  for  2  years.  The  judiciary  consists  of  a  Supreme  Court, 
of  three  divisions,  presided  over  by  as  many  judges,  receiving  each 
$1,200  per  annum,  and  15  circuit  courts,  presided  over  by  as  many  judges, 
each  receiving  §1,000  per  annum.  All  white  male  citizens,  of  21  years 
of  age,  who  have  resided  in  the  State  six  months  next  preceding  an 
election,  are  qualified  voters.  Illinois  is  entitled  to  9  members  in  the 
national  House  of  Representatives,  and  to  11  electoral  votes  for  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States.  The  State  debt  in  1854  was  $15,725,725. 
The  governor  of  the  State,  in  his  message  to  the  legislature,  January, 
1854,  states  the  finances  to  be  in  an  excellent  condition.  Ordinary  ex- 
penses of  government,  $125,000 ;  school  fund,  seminary,  and  university, 
$951,504;  productive  property,  $5,000,000;  asse^^sed  value  of  property 
in  1853,  $224,715,963;  receipts  from  State  and  county  tax,  $1,973,317. 
Illinois  has  a  free-banking  law,  which  requires  that  no  company  shall  go 
into  operation  until  it  has  deposited  stocks  to  the  amount  of  $50,000 
with  the  auditor.  In  1854,  29  banks  were  in  operation,  with  $2,513,790 
capital  pate/  in,  $2,283,526  in  circulation,  and  $565,152  in  specie. 


570  ILLINOIS. 

History. — Though  Illinois  did  not  become  a  member  of  the  Ameri- 
cau  Confederacy  till  1818,  it  colonized  about  the  same  period  as  Phila- 
delphia. Marquette,  a  French  traveler,  visited  it  as  early  as  1673,  and 
settlements  were  made  at  Cahokia  and  Kaskaskia,  at  the  close  of  the 
Eoveuteenth  century.  These,  however,  like  other  French  colonies,  did 
not  increase  rapidly.  At  the  treaty  of  Paris,  in  1763,  Illinois  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  English,  and  came,  with  all  the  territory  east  of  the 
Mississippi,  into  the  possession  of  the  government  of  the  United  States, 
at  the  Revolution,  in  1775.  Soon  after  some  settlers  from  Virginia 
located  themselves  in  the  Territory,  and  in  1787  it  became  a  part  of  the 
North-west  Territory,  then  created,  and  which  included  all  the  country 
north-west  of  the  Ohio  river.  In  ISOO  it  formed  part  of  a  separate  Ter- 
ritory, under  the  name  of  Indiana,  in  conjunction  with  the  State  now 
bearing  that  name.  A  second  division  took  place  in  1809,  when  the 
present  State  was  organized  as  the  Territory  of  Illinois,  and  in  1818  ad- 
mitted as  an  independent  member  of  the  confederacy,  since  which  it  has 
gone  on  with  an  average  decennial  increase  of  more  than  200  per  cent. 

Chicago. — The  most  populous  and  commercial  city  of  Illinois,  and 
seat  of  justice  of  Cook  county,  is  situated  on  the  south-western  shore  of 
lake  Michigan,  and  on  both  sides  of  Chicago  river,  278  miles,  west  by 
south,  from  Detroit;  180  miles,  east  by  south,  from  Galena,  and  410 
miles,  by  water,  from  St.  Louis.  Latitude  41°  52'  20"  north,  and  lon- 
gitude 87°  35'  west. 

This  city — the  most  remarkable  in  the  United  States  for  its  rapid 
growth — is  built  on  an  extremely  level  plain,  sufficiently  elevated  to  pre- 
vent inundation,  and  extending  many  miles  towards  the  south  and  west. 
The  adjacent  country  consists  of  beautiful  and  fertile  prairies,  interspersed 
with  groves,  and  diversified  by  gentle  slopes.  Chicago  river,  and  its  north 
and  south  branches,  which  unite  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the 
lake,  separate  the  city  into  three  portions.  The  main  stream,  flowing 
directly  eastward,  is  from  50  to  75  yards  wide,  and  from  15  to  20  feet 
deep,  and  forms  one  of  the  best  natural  harbors  on  the  lake.  Substantial 
piers  have  been  extended  into  the  lake,  and  a  light-house  erected  on  one 
of  them.  Vessels  ascend  Chicago  river  and  one  of  its  branches  nearly 
5  miles. 

The  city  is  laid  out  in  rectangular  blocks,  with  streets  extending  nearly 
north  and  south,  and  east  and  west.  The  shore  of  the  lake,  and  the 
northern  parts  of  the  city  are  occupied  with  the  finest  residences,  but  the 
principal  business  is  transacted  on  the  south  side  of  the  river,  the  banks 
of  the  South  branch  being  lined  with  docks  and  large  warehouses.  Many 
of  the  streets  are  paved  with  planks,  and  lighted  with  gas.  Michigan 
avenue,  which  is,  perhaps,  the  most  beautiful  street  in  the  city,  extends 
along  the  shore  of  the  lake,  and  is  bordered  with  shade-trees.  Next  to, 
and  parallel  with  this,  is  Wabash  avenue,  adorned  with  double  rows  of  trees. 

The  most  remarkable  public  buildings  are  the  new  Court-house,  the 
Merchants'  Exchange,  the  Marine  hospital,  the  Medical  college,  and  the 
Second  Presbyterian  church.  The  Court-house  is  a  splendid  edifice  of 
Lockport  limestone,  having  a  prison  on  the  first  floor,  the  county  offices 
on  the  second,  and  a  court-room  and  town-hall  on  the  third,  with  a  cupola 


ILLINOIS.  571 

and  roof  of  galvanized  iron.  The  ]\rarine  hospital  is  a  spacious  and 
handsome  building,  of  Milwaukie  brick.  The  Second  Presbyterian 
church,  at  the  corner  of  Wabash  and  Washington  streets,  in  the  gothic 
style,  with  a  steeple  about  200  feet  high,  is  perhaps  the  most  beautiful 
edifice  of  its  class  west  of  New  York.  It  is  built  of  a  kind  of  pitchy 
stone,  in  which  black  and  white  are  mingled,  and  presents  a  singular  and 
striking  appearance.  A  Catholic  cathedral  is  about  being  erected  in  the 
northern  part  of  the  city,  the  cost  of  which,  it  is  estimated,  will  be  from 
0150,000  to  $200,000.  There  are  61  churches  in  the  city,  belonging  to 
the  different  denominations.  Chicago  contains  7  banks,  and  about  20 
printing  offices,  from  which  numerous  daily  and  weekly  journals  are  is- 
sued. The  public  schools  are  well  organized,  and  are  accommodated  with 
excellent  buildings.  There  are  54  schools  of  different  grades.  The 
medical  college  was  founded  in  1842  :  it  has  (j  professors,  and  is  attended 
by  about  80  students. 

By  a  glance  at  the  map  of  the  United  States,  the  great  commercial 
advantages  of  Chicago  will  at  once  be  perceived.  It  communicates,  by 
means  of  the  chain  of  lakes,  with  the  Atlantic  cities  ;  the  Illinois  and 
Michigan  canal,  100  miles  long,  affords  an  easy  access  to  the  Mississippi 
valley,  and  to  the  coal-mines  of  central  Illinois;  while  the  Galena  and 
Chicago  railroad  penetrates  to  the  mineral  region  of  Wisconsin  and  Iowa. 
The  Michigan  central  and  Michigan  southern  railroads  were  completed 
to  this  place  in  1852,  opening  a  direct  steam  communication  with  New- 
York  city.  There  are  also  numerous  other  lines  centering  in  this  city, 
among  which  may  be  mentioned  the  Illinois  central,  which  will  extend 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  and  connect  with  the  Mobile  railroad;  the 
Illinois  and  Wisconsin,  the  Chicago  and  Rock  Island,  the  Chicago  and 
Milwaukie,  etc.  According  to  a  statement  published  in  the  Chicago 
Democratic  Press,  there  are,  in  1854,  either  completed  or  in  course  of 
construction,  14  trunk  and  34  extension  lines  of  railway,  (in  all  7,779 
miles,)  conducting  to  that  city.  Of  these,  1,626  miles  are  in  actual  ope- 
ration, and  46  trains  of  cars  enter  and  leave  Chicago  daily,  to  accommodate 
the  travel  and  commerce. 

Chicago  also  communicates  with  Buffalo  and  intermediate  ports  by  a 
daily  line  of  steamboats,  which,  in  respect  to  size,  speed,  and  comfortable 
accommodations,  arc  scarcely  inferior  to  any  in  the  world.  The  number 
of  arrivals  of  steamers  and  sail-vessels  in  1851  was  2,279.  The  tonnage 
in  1852  amounted  to  25,209,  and  in  1854  to  31,041,  enrolled  and  licensed. 
The  aggregate  value  of  exports  and  imports  in  1852  was  estimated  by 
the  Governor  of  Illinois,  in  his  message,  at  §20,000,000.  The  same  doc- 
ument states  that  there  are  211  houses  engaged  in  wholesale  business, 
many  of  which  import  directly  from  PJurope,  and  26  forwarding  and  com- 
mission merchants,  doing  a  heavy  business.  The  quantities  of  leading 
articles  received  at  this  place  in  1852,  are  reported  as  follows  : — 2,757,011 
bushels  of  Indian  corn,  937,496  bushels  of  wheat,  124,316  barrels  of 
flour,  24,363  head  of  cattle,  (or  about  1.3,000,000  pounds  of  beef,)  59,156 
hogs,  (or  about  6,000,000  pounds  of  pork,)  147,816,232  feet  of  boards, 
and  77,000  thousand  shingles.  Chicago  has  become  the  greatest  grain- 
market  in  the  world ;  the  receipts  for  1854  being  2,946,924  bushels  of 


572  ILLINOIS. 

wheat,  0,745,588  of  Indian  corn,  and  •4,024,216  of  oats,  rye,  and  barley : 
total,  13. 720,728  bushels.  The  receipts  of  lumber  in  1853  were 
198,271,247  feet  of  boards,  125,638  thousand  shingles,  and  38,721,373 
laths. 

About  82,500,000  are  invested  in  manufactures,  the  most  important 
productions  of  which  are  steam-engines,  railway  cars,  reaping  and  thrash- 
ing machines,  with  other  agricultural  implements,  horse-powers  and  other 
machinery,  stoves,  gas-pipes,  leather,  lumber,  flour,  and  lard  oil.  There 
were,  in  1851,  10  iron  founderies,  with  machine-shops,  which  together 
produced  annually  $241,900  ;  9  manufactories  of  agricultural  implements, 
which  produced  §390,250  ;  5  tanneries,  which  produced  $240,000 ;  10 
manufactories  of  cabinet-ware,  2  or  3  of  railway-cars,  25  of  carriages 
and  wagons,  4  flouring-mills,  with  an  aggregate  capital  of  $155,000,  and 
3  planing-mills.  The  slaughtering  and  beef-packing  business  in  Chicago, 
employs  nearly  $1,000,000  capital,  and  between  500  and  600  persons. 
One  house,  in  the  autumn  of  1853,  paid  $145,000  for  beeves  in  three 
weeks;  and  up  to  November  17th,  nine  packing  houses,  in  that  city,  had 
already  slaughtered  25,162  cattle,  weighing  14,269,427  pounds.  This 
business  is  rapidly  increasing. 

Chicago  is  supplied  with  water  from  the  lake,  raised  by  steam-power  to 
a  brick  reservoir,  80  feet  in  bight,  situated  at  the  foot  of  Chicago  avenue. 
The  estimated  cost  of  these  works  is  $400,000.  The  Chicago  and  Galena 
railroad  Company  have  erected  a  fine  depot  for  passengers;  and  another 
for  freight,  about  800  feet  in  length.  The  Tremont  House,  here,  is  one 
of  the  largest,  as  well  as  one  of  the  best  hotels  in  the  United  States. 
The  assessed  value  of  real  and  personal  estate  in  1854  was  $24,392,240 

Chicago,  which  appears  destined  to  become  the  chief  commercial  em 
porium  of  the  north-west,  in  consequence  of  its  commanding  situation, 
was  settled  about  the  year  1881,  previous  to  which  it  was  a  mere  trading 
post  amidst  the  wigwams  of  the  Indians.  It  was  incorporated  in  1836  ; 
in  1840  it  contained  4,853  inhabitants ;  in  1850,  29,963;  in  1858,  60,661i ; 
and  in  1855,  about  80,000,  having  doubled  about  every  four  years. 

QuiNCY,  a  handsome  town,  capital  of  Adams  county,  lies  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi river,  170  miles  above  St.  Louis,  and  104  miles  west  of  Spriub?- 
field.  It  is  finely  situated  on  a  limestone  bluflp,  125  feet  above  the  rives, 
of  which  it  commands  an  extensive  view.  It  has  a  large  public  squad'c, 
a  good  court-house,  18  churches,  a  United  States  land-office,  and  3  banli:j. 
Seven  newspapers  and  periodicals  are  published  here,  two  of  which  are 
dailies.  Quincy  carries  on  an  active  trade  by  steamboats  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi. It  is  the  terminus  of  the  Military  Tract  Eailroad,  now  in  course 
of  construction,  which  leads  to  Chicago.  The  country  in  the  vicinity  is- 
a  rich  and  rolling  prairie,  and  one  of  the  most  highly  cultivated  parts  ol" 
the  State.  Quincy  contained  (in  1853)  5  lumber-yards,  2  large  distille- 
ries, 4  large  founderies,  0  machine  shops,  5  or  6  steam  mills  for  grain,  1 
steam  saw  mills,  2  planing-machines,  3  door  sash  and  blind,  3  carriage, 
and  8  wholesale  furniture  manufactories,  1  cotton  mill,  besides  numerous 
other  establishments.  Coopering  is  carried  on  very  extensively.  Popu- 
lation in  1840,  about  2,000 ;  in  1850,  6,901 ;  and  by  a  local  census  in 
1854,  10,957. 


ILLINOIS.  573 

Peoria,  a  handsome  and  flourishing  city,  capital  of  Peoria  county,  lies 
on  the  right  or  west  bank  of  the  Illinois  river,  at  the  outlet  of  Peoria 
lake,  70  miles  north  of  Springfield,  and  151  miles  south-west  of  Chicago. 
It  is  the  most  populous  town  on  the  river,  and  one  of  the  most  important 
and  commercial  in  the  State.  The  river  is  navigable  by  steamboats  in 
all  stages  of  water,  and  is  the  channel  of  an  immense  trade  in  grain, 
lumber,  pork,  etc.  A  number  of  steamboats  make  regular  passages 
between  St,  Louis  and  Peoria,  which  also  communicates  with  Chicago, 
by  means  of  the  Illinois  and  Michigan  canal.  The  Peoria  and  Oquawka 
railroad  connects  this  place  with  Burlington,  Iowa,  and  will  be  extended 
east  to  Middleport.  The  town  is  regularly  laid  out  and  well  built.  It 
has,  beside  the  county  buildings,  about  10  churches,  several  seminaries, 
a  telegraph  office,  a  bank,  and  5  newspaper  offices.  We  quote  the  following 
description  from  the  letter  of  a  recent  traveler :  "  Peoria  is  the  most  beautiful 
town  on  the  river.  Situated  on  rising  ground,  a  broad  plateau  extending 
back  from  the  bluff,  it  has  escaped  the  almost  universal  inundation. 
The  river  here  expands  into  a  broad,  deep  lake.  This  lake  is  a  most 
beautiful  feature  in  the  scenery  of  the  town,  and  as  useful  as  beautiful, 
supplying  the  inhabitants  with  ample  stores  of  fish,  and  in  winter  with 
abundance  of  the  purest  ice.  It  is  often  frozen  to  such  a  thickness,  that 
heavy  teams  can  pass  securely  over  it.  A  substantial  drawbridge  connects 
the  town  with  the  opposite  shore  of  the  river.  The  city  is  laid  out  in 
rectangular  blocks,  the  streets  being  wide  and  well  graded.  The  schools 
and  churches  are  prosperous,  and  the  society  good.  A  public  square  has 
been  reserved  near  the  center.  Back  of  the  town  extends  one  of  the 
finest  rolling  prairies  in  the  State,  which  already  furnishes  to  Peoria  its 
supplies  and  much  of  its  business."  The  number  of  steamboat  arrivals 
in  1850  was  1,286.  La  Salle,  a  Frenchman,  established  a  post  at  this 
place  in  1680.  The  rise  of  the  present  town  dates  from  April,  1819. 
It  was  incorporated  as  a  city  in  1844.  Population  on  January  1,  1851, 
6,212;  in  1853,  about  8,000. 

Galena,  a  flourishing  city  and  capital  of  Jo  Daviess  county,  lies  on 
Fevre  river,  6  miles  from  its  entrance  into  the  Mississippi  river,  450 
miles  above  St.  Louis,  180  miles  west- north-west  of  Chicago,  and  250 
north  by  west  of  Springfield.  "  The  river  on  whose  rocliy  shelf  this 
town  is  built  is  more  properly  an  arm  of  the  Mississippi  river,  sotting  up 
between  lofty  bluS's,  around  whose  base  it  winds  with  picturesque  effect. 
The  streets  rise  one  above  another,  and  communicate  with  each  other  by 
flights  of  steps,  so  that  the  houses  on  the  higher  streets  are  perched  like 
an  eagle's  eyrie,  overlooking  the  rest,  and  commanding  an  extensive 
prospect.  Pleasant  churches  meet  the  eye  on  the  first  ledge  or  terrace 
above  the  levee,  and  private  residences,  wearing  an  aspect  of  neatness  and 
comfort,  adorn  each  successive  hight." — (Thompson's  Letters.')  Galena 
owes  its  growth  and  importance  mainly  to  the  rich  mines  of  lead  with 
which  it  is  surrounded  in  every  direction.  Considerable  quantities  of 
copper  are  found  in  connection  with  the  lead.  The  amount  of  lead 
shipped  at  this  place  in  1850  was  40,000,000  pounds,  valued  at  §1,600,000 
The  Fevre  river  is  navigable  by  steamboats,  which  make  regular  passages 
from  Galena  to  St.  Louis,  St.  Paul's,  and  other  parts  on  the  Mississippi 


574  INDIANA. 

rivor.  The  commerce  of  the  place  is  extensive,  ami  rapidly  increasing. 
The  total  value  of  exports  in  1851  was  computed  at  SI, 800,358.  A  large 
portion  of  Wisconsin,  Iowa,  and  Minnesota  are  tributary  to  this  town. 
It  is  the  western  terminus  of  the  Chicago  and  Galena  railroad,  and  a 
branch  of  the  Central  railroad  connects  it  i.vith  Peru.  Galena  contains 
1  bank  and  3  newspaper  offices.  An  error  in  the  spelling  and  prououn- 
ciation  of  Fevre  river  (named  from  La  Fevre,  an  early  French  trader,) 
has  given  some  currency  to  an  unfounded  impression  that  the  place  is 
■unhealthy.  The  name  of  the  city  is  taken  from  galena,  a  species  of  lead 
ore.     Population  in  1850,  6,004;  in  1853,  about  8,000. 

Alton,  a  city  and  port  of  etkry,  Madison  county,  lies  on  the  Missis- 
sippi river,  21  miles  above  St.  Louis,  3  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the 
Missouri,  and  76  miles  south-south-west  of  Springfield.  It  has  a  favor- 
able position  for  trade,  and  its  landing  is  one  of  the  best  on  the  river. 
A  railroad  has  been  completed  from  this  place  to  Springfield,  and  two 
others  are  in  course  of  construction,  which  will  connect  it  with  Jackson- 
ville, and  with  Terre  Haute,  Indiana.  Alton  contained  but  few  houses 
until  the  penitentiary  was  located  here  in  1832,  since  which  it  has  in- 
creased rapidly.  It  has  wide  streets,  several  public  squares,  and  a  large 
space  along  the  margin  of  the  river  reserved  for  a  public  landing  and 
promenade.  It  contains  about  6  churches,  a  lyceum,  a  theological  semi- 
nary, and  a  newspaper  oflSice.  Upper  Alton,  li^  or  2  miles  to  the  east,  is 
the  seat  of  Shurtleff  college,  under  the  direction  of  the  Baptists.  Large 
quarries  of  fine  limestone  have  been  opened  near  Alton,  and  stonecoal 
and  timber  are  abundant  in  the  vicinity.     Population,  3,875. 


INDIANA. 


'  This  portion  of  the  great  Mississippi  valley  is  bounded  on  the  north 
by  Lake  Michigan  and  the  State  of  Michigan,  east  by  Ohio,  south  by 
Kentucky,  from  which  it  is  separated  by  tlie  Ohio  river,  and  west  by 
Illinois,  from  which  it  is  partly  separated  by  the  Wabash  river.  It  lies 
between  37^  45'  and  41°  52'  north  latitude,  being  about  275  miles  in  its 
greatest  length  from  north  to  south,  and  about  135  miles  in  width, 
forming  nearly  a  parallel(itJ;ram,  and  including  33,809  square  miles,  or 
21,637,700  acres,  only  5,045,453  of  which  are  improved,  leaving  three- 
fourths  of  this  fertile  State  uncultivated.  When  we  take  into  consider- 
ation that  the  million  of  inhabitants  who  possess  the  cultivated  portion 


INDIANA.  575 

are  far  from  densely  settled,  we  arrive  at  conclusions  foreshadowing  the 
the  immense  population  that  must  one  day  occupy  the  great  Mississippi 
valley. 

Face  of  the  Country. — Indiana  has  no  great  mountains  or  great 
elevations;  but  portions  south  of  the  White  river  are  somewhat  hilly  and 
rugged.  A  low  ridge  from  Kentucky  extends  in  a  north-west  direction 
across  the  Ohio,  White,  and  Wabash  rivers,  causing  rapids  in  each. 
North  of  the  White  and  Wabash  rivers,  (forming  much  the  larger  part 
of  the  State.)  the  country  is  generally  level,  or  slightly  undulating.  Most 
of  the  rivers  have  rich  alluvial  bottoms  of  a  few  miles  in  width.  A  range 
of  hills  runs  along  the  Ohio,  sometimes  approaching,  and  at  others 
receding  from  the  river,  forming  in  the  south-west  an  exceedingly  broken 
and  rocky  country.  In  the  north-west  part  is  some  land  heavily  tim- 
bered with  walnut,  beech,  maple,  buckeye,  etc.,  with  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  the  richest  prairie  land.  Immediately  bordering  on  Lake  Michigan 
are  some  sandhills  about  200  feet  in  hight,  behind  which  is  a  region 
covered  with  pine.  The  north-east  part  of  Indiana  is  also  heavily  tim- 
bered, interspersed  with  prairie,  barrens,  and  marsh  lands.  The  most 
of  the  streams  empty  into  the  Ohio,  showing  a  general  inclination  of  the 
surface  in  that  direction. 

Minerals. — Indiana  has  beds  of  coal  within  her  limits  estimated  to 
be  capable  of  yielding  50,000,000  bushels  to  the  square  mile.  One  coal 
deposit  commences  near  the  Ohio,  in  Perry  county,  and  extends  north- 
west about  150  miles  into  Vermilion  county.  Taylor  computes  the  area 
of  the  coal  field  of  this  State  at  7,700  square  miles.  Coal  deposits  have 
this  year  (1854)  been  discovered  under  the  town  of  Evansville,  which 
give  promise  of  great  richness.  Beside  coal,  Indiana  contains  iron,  some 
copper,  lime,  marble,  freestone,  gypsum,  and  grindstones.  In  1850 
about  $172,000  were  invested  in  forges,  furnaces,  etc.,  for  the  working 
of  iron. 

Rivers,  Lakes,  etc. — Lake  Michigan  borders  on  the  north-west  por- 
tion of  Indiana  for  about  40  miles,  and  opens  to  it  the  trade  of  the  great 
lakes.  There  are  a  number  of  small  lakes  in  the  north  part  of  the  State. 
The  Ohio  forms  the  entire  southern  boundary  of  Indiana,  and  give? 
access  to  the  commerce  of  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  valleys.  The  Wai.>a,dli 
is  the  largest  river  that  has  its  course  mainly  within  the  State,  of  whose 
surface,  with  its  branches,  it  drains  three-fourths.  It  rises  in  the  west 
of  Ohio,  and  flowing  north-west,  and  then  south-west  across  the  State, 
meets  the  boundary  of  Illinois,  which  it  follows  for  more  than  100  miles, 
till  it  discharges  its  waters  into  the  Ohio,  after  a  total  course  of  about 
500  miles,  (including  its  windings,)  400  of  which  may  be  navigated  by 
steamboats  at  high  water.  At  low  water  its  channel  is  obstructed  by 
bars  and  ledges  of  rocks  just  above  the  mouth  of  the  White  river,  its 
principal  tributary.  The  latter  rises  in  two  branches  in  the  east  part  of 
the  State,  flows  south-west,  and  unites  about  30  miles  from  the  Wabash. 
The  course  of  the  largest  branch  (the  West  fork)  is  about  200  miles. 
It  is  navigable  in  the  season  of  floods  to  Indianapolis,  140  miles  from  its 
mouth.  The  Maumee  is  formed  by  the  St,  Joseph's  and  St.  Mary's,  in 
the  north-east  part  of  Indiana,  and  passes  off  into  Ohio.  The  Kankakee, 
37 


576  INDIANA. 

one  of  the  sources  of  the  Illinois,  drains  the  north-west  portion  of  the 
State.  The  upper  St.  Joseph's  makes  a  bond  into  Indiana  from  Michi- 
gan, to  which,  after  a  course  of  about  30  miles,  it  returns.  Some 
branches  of  the  Ohio  and  Wabash  form  the  other  principal  streams. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — There  are  a  number  of  caves  in 
this  State.  Wyandotte  cave,  in  Crawford  county,  11  miles  from  Cory- 
don,  is  said  to  rival  the  Mammoth  cave,  in  Kentucky,  in  extent  and 
interest.  Previous  to  1850,  the  cave  had  been  explored  for  3  miles. 
In  that  year  new  chambers  and  galleries  were  discovered,  niore  extensive 
than  the  old,  and  abounding  in  stalactites  and  other  calcareous  concre- 
tions, some  of  great  size  and  splendor.  Epsom  Salts  Cave,  on  the  Big 
Blue  river,  is  in  the  side  of  a  hill  400  feet  high.  About  2,500  yards 
from  the  entrance  is  a  white  column,  15  feet  in  diameter,  30  in  bight, 
regularly  fluted,  and  surrounded  by  smaller  and  similar  columns.  The 
earth  of  the  floor  yields  Epsom  salts,  nitre,  aluminous  earth,  and  gypsum. 
There  is  within  a  rude  painting  of  an  Indian  on  the  rock.  There  are  a 
number  of  mounds  scattered  over  the  State,  similar  to  those  described  in 
Ohio. 

Climate,  Soil,  and  Productions. — The  climate  of  Indiana  partakes 
of  the  genera)  character  of  the  Western  States  north  of  the  Ohio;  that 
is  to  say,  somewhat  milder  than  on  the  Atlantic  coasts,  but  subject  to 
sudden  changes.  The  cold  of  winter  is  severe,  but  of  comparatively  short 
duration;  the  snow  does  not  generally  fall  to  a  great  depth,  or  lie  very 
long,  though  there  is  considerable  difference  in  this  respect  between  the 
northern  and  southern  parts  of  the  State.  The  earlier  fruits  blossom  in 
March,  but  are  liable  to  be  injured  by  frosts.  The  soil  is  generally  good, 
and  much  of  it  highly  fertile.  The  richest  lands  are  found  in  the  river- 
bottoms,  where  the  soil  is  very  deep.  This  is  especially  the  ease  in  ths 
valleys  of  the  Wabash  and  its  tributaries  above  Torre  Haute  and  in  parts 
of  the  Ohio  valley.  The  country  between  the  rivers  is  somewhat 
elevated,  and  not  so  luxuriantly  fertile  as  on  the  river  bottoms,  but  amply 
repays  the  labors  of  the  husbandman.  Indeed,  there  is  very  little  of  this 
State  uncultivated;  even  its  wet  and  marshy  lands  will,  no  doubt,  at 
some  future  day,  when  the  density  of  population  and  cheapness  of  labor 
may  warrant  it,  become  as  productive  as  most  of  the  other  lands  in  the 
State.  Indiana  ranks  fourth  of  the  States  of  the  Union  in  the  absolute 
amount  of  Indian  corn  raised,  and  third  as  respects  population.  It  also 
produces  large  quantities  of  wheat,  oats,  with  Irish  potatoes,  fruit,  butter, 
and  live  stock, besides  considerable  rye,  barley,  buckwheat,  sweet  potatoes, 
tobacco,  wool,  peas,  beans,  cheese,  grass-seeds,  flax,  hops,  maple-sugar, 
molasses,  beeswax  and  honey,  and  some  wine,  hemp,  and  silk.  In  1850, 
there  were  in  Indiana  98,396  farms,  occupying  5,046,543  acres  of  im- 
proved land,  (averaging  about  50  acres  to  each  plantation,)  and  producing 
6,214,458  bushels  of  wheat,  52,964,363  of  Indian  corn,  5,655,014  of 
oats,  78,792  of  rye,  35,773  of  peas  and  beans,  2,083,337  of  Irish  pota- 
toes, 201,711  of  sweet  potatoes,  45,483  of  barley,  149,740  of  buckwheat, 
80,271  of  grass-seeds,  1,044,620  pounds  of  tobacco,  2,610,287  of  wool, 
12,881,535  of  butter,  624,564  of  cheese,  403,230  tons  of  hay,  92,796 
pounds  of  hops,  584,469  of  flax,  2,921,192  of  maple-sugar,  (fourth  in 


INDIANA.  577 

amount  of  the  United  States,)  935,329  of  beeswax  and  honey,  14,055 
gallons  of  wine,  180,325  of  molasses;  live  stock  valued  at  §22, 478, 555, 
orchard  products  at  $324,940,  market  products  at  ^72,864,  and  slaugh- 
tered animals  at  $6,567,936. 

Forest  Trees. — Indigenous  to  Indiana  are  various  species  of  oaks, 
poplar,  ash,  walnut,  hickory,  elm,  cherry,  sugar-maple,  buckeye,  beech, 
and  some  sassafras,  lime,  locust,  sycamore,  cottonwood,  hackberry,  and 
mulberry  in  the  bottom-lands.  The  fruits  common  to  the  latitude  thrive 
in  Indiana. 

Manufactures. — Though  not  yet  largely  engaged  in  manufacturing 
industry,  Indiana  has  every  facility,  in  the  abundance  of  her  water- 
power  and  the  cheapness  of  her  coal,  to  become  a  manufacturing  State 
when  it  may  become  advantageous  for  her  so  to  do.  There  were,  in 
1850,  in  this  State,  4,326  manufacturing  establishments,  each  producing 
$500  and  upwards  annually,  of  which  2  were  cotton  mills,  employing 
$43,000  capital,  and  38  male  and  57  female  hands,  consuming  raw  mate- 
rial valued  at  $28,220,  and  producing  stuffs  and  yarns  worth  $44,200 ; 
33  woolen  mills,  employing  $171,545,  and  189  male  and  57  female 
hands,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $120,486,  and  producing  235,500 
yards  of  stuffs,  and  104,000  pounds  of  yarn,  valued  at  $205,802 ;  19 
furnaces,  forges,  etc.,  employing  $171,900  capital,  and  253  male  hands, 
consuming  raw  material  worth  $95,748,  and  producing  3,782  tons  of  cast, 
wrought,  and  pig  iron,  valued  at  $219,190 ;  358  tanneries,  employing 
$514,897  capital,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $405,838,  and  producing 
leather  valued  at  $714,813;  and  $334,950  invested  in  the  manufacture 
of  malt  liquors,  whisky,  wine,  etc.,  consuminc  118,150  bushels  of  barley, 
1,417,900  of  Indian  corn,  48,700  of  rye,  1,000  of  oats,  and  18  tons  of 
hops,  and  employing  287  hands,  and  producing  11,005  barrels  of  beer, 
ale,  etc.,  and  4,639,900  gallons  of  whisky,  wine,  etc.  Home-made  manu- 
factures were  produced,  valued  at  $1,631,039. 

Internal  iMPROVEiviENTS. — Indiana  is  among  the  leading  States  of 
the  great  Mississippi  valley  in  works  of  internal  improvement.  In 
August,  1854,  there  were  within  her  limits  1,278  miles  of  railroad  com- 
pleted, 1,592  in  course  of  construction,  and  732  were  projected.  So 
rapid  is  her  progress  in  this  respect,  that  any  correct  account  of  her  rail- 
roads one  year  would  bo  antedated  the  next.  Railways,  centering  in  In- 
dianapolis, branch  off  in  all  directions,  uniting  the  capital  more  or  less 
directly,  with  Chicago,  Cleveland,  Detroit,  Columbus,  (Ohio,)  Pittsburg, 
and  Cincinnati,  beyond  the  State,  and  with  Madison,  New  Albany, 
Evansville,  Terre  Haute,  Lafayette,  Peru,  Michigan  City,  and  various 
minor  points  within  the  State.  The  Central  Michigan  has  40,  and  the 
Southern  Michigan  and  North  Indiana  railroad,  120  miles  of  their  tracks 
in  this  State.  The  roads  in  progress,  or  projected  in  or  through  this  State, 
will  connect  Cincinnati  with  St.  Louis  and  Hannibal,  Missouri,  with  Bur- 
lington, Iowa,  with  Rock  Island,  with  Chicago,  (more  directly,)  with  Fort 
Wayne,  and  with  Detroit  and  intermediate  points.  According  to  Do  Bow's 
Magazine  for  December,  1854,  Indiana  had  367  miles  of  canal,  viz. :  the 
greater  portion  of  the  Wabash  and  Erie,  uniting  Toledo  (Ohio)  with  Terre 
Haute,  and  the  Lawrenceburg  and  Cambridge  City  canals.  There  is  scarcely 


678  INDIANA. 

a  place  of  any  considerable  importance  in  Indiana  that  is  not,  directly  or 
indin-ctly,  connected  with  the  large  cities  of  the  Eastern,  Middle,  and 
Wi'Stern  States;  and  the  railroads  iu  course  of  construction  are  daily  short- 
ening these  distances,  ami  making  them  more  direct.  The  receipts  from  the 
Wabash  and  Erie  canal,  in  1852^  were  §460,452 ;  expenditures,  H0d,G21. 

Commerce. — Indiana  has  no  foreign  commerce,  but  an  active  lake 
and  river  trade  with  New  Orleans  and  the  various  points  of  the  Missis- 
sippi and  Ohio  Valleys,  by  the  rivers  of  the  same  name,  and  with  JSTew 
York  by  the  lakes,  though  for  the  most  part  in  vessels  owned  in  other 
States.  A  want  of  statistics  does  not  enable  us  to  do  justice  to  the  trade 
of  Indiana.  Tonnage  iu  185?>,  of  New  Albany,  3,843;  vessels  built  in 
the  State,  9  of  3,445  tons  burden.  The  great  objects  of  export  are  cattle, 
hogs,  and  other  live  stock;  pork,  beef,  lard,  Indian  corn,  wheat,  and 
wool.     Hogs  packed  in  1853-54,  619,176. 

Education. — Indiana  has  a  school  fund  derived  from  several  sources, 
which  Gov.  Wright,  in  his  message  of  December,  1853,  estimates  at 
84,988,988.  It  is  made  up  of  the  congressional  township  fund,  surplus 
revenue.  Saline,  and  bank  tax  funds,  constantly  augmenting,  from 
fines,  forfeitures,  and  the  profits  of  the  sinking  fund,  more  than  81,000,000 
of  which  is  not  at  present  available.  The  receipts  from  the  university 
fund  for  1852,  were  S15,528;  and  from  the  common  school  fund,  $73,839. 
There  were  expended  for  the  Indiana  University  in  the  same  year, 
816,361.  The  Constitution  provides  for  the  election  by  the  people  of 
a  superintendent  of  public  schools,  to  hold  office  for  two  years.  The 
number  of  children  in  the  schools,  in  1851,  was  225,318,  or  nearly  one- 
fourth  of  the  inhabitants.  According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were 
11  colleges  with  1,069  students,  and  §43,350  income,  of  which  S14,000 
was  from  endowments;  4,822  public  schools  with  161,500  pupils,  and 
with  $314,467  income,  of  which  §134,078  was  from  public  funds, 
874,258  frum  taxation,  and  110,630  from  endowments;  131  academies 
and  other  schools,  with  6,185  pupils,  and  $63,520  income,  and  220,961 
attending  school,  as  returned  by  families.  Of  the  adult  population, 
72,710  could  not  read  and  write,  of  whom  3,265  were  of  foreign  birth. 

Religious  Denominations. — Of  the  2,032  churches  in  Indiana,  in 
1850,  the  different  sects  of  Baptists  owned  428 ;  the  Christian  Church, 
187;  Episcopalian,  24;  Free  Church,  10;  Friends,  89;  Lutherans,  63; 
Methodists,  778  ;  Moravians,  57  ;  Presbyterians,  282 ;  Roman  Catholics, 
63 ;  and  Universalists,  15 ;  the  rest  belong  to  the  Benevolent  Church, 
Congregationalists,  Dutch  and  Cerman  Reformed,  New  Lights,  Seceders, 
Tunkers,  Union  Church,  and  Unitarians;  giving  one  Church  to  every 
487  persons.     Value  of  church  property,  $1,529,585. 

Periodicals. — There  were  published  in  Indiana,  in  1850,  9  daily,  2 
tri  and  semi-weekly,  95  week)}-,  and  1  semi-monthly  periodicals;  with  a 
total  annual  circulation  of  4,316,828  copies. 

Public  Institutions. — Indiana  stands  among  the  first  of  the  Western 
States  in  provision  for  the  unfortunate.  There  are  at  Indianapolis 
asylums  for  the  deaf  and  dumb,  blind  and  insane;  and  the  constitution 
directs  the  erection  of  houses  of  refuge  for  the  reformation  of  juvenile 
criminals.     In  November,  1852,  there  were  121  pupils  in  the  deaf  and 


INDIANA.  579 

dumb,  and  42  in  the  blind  asylum.  In  the  same  year  the  insane  hospi- 
tal had  159  patients,  and  102  discharged  cured.  This  institution  was 
opened  in  1848.  All  the  deaf  and  dumb  between  the  ages  of  10  and  30, 
and  all  blind  children  of  the  State  may,  if  they  choose,  receive  a  gratui- 
tous education.  The  different  benevolent  institutions  received  frnm  the 
State,  in  the  year  ending  November,  1852,  appropriations  amounting  to 
^103,560,21.  The  State  Prison  at  Jeffersonville  had,  in  November, 
1852,  217  convicts  confined  within  its  walls,  of  whom  53  were  of  foreign 
birth.  There  were,  in  1850,  58  public  libraries,  with  46,238  volumes; 
88  school  and  Sunday-school,  with  13,065;  4  colleges,  with  8,700,  and  1 
church  library,  with  400  volumes.  Indiana  has  a  Historical  Society, 
established  in  1830. 

Population. — There  were  in  Indiana,  4,875  inhabitants  in  1800; 
24,520  in  1810;  147,178  in  1820;  343,031  in  1830;  685,866  in  1840; 
and  988,393  in  1850;  of  whom  506,178  were  white  males,  470,976  white 
females ;  5,715  colored  males,  and  5,547  colored  females.  There  were 
also,  in  1850,  171,564  families,  inhabiting  170,178  dwellings.  Popula- 
tion to  the  square  mile,  2,924.  Of  the  entire  population,  525,732  were  born 
in  the  State,  404,726  in  other  States  of  the  Union  5,550  in  England, 
12,787  in  Ireland,  1,510  in  Scotland  and  Wales,  1,878  in  British 
America,  28,584  in  Germany,  2,279  in  France,  1,838  in  other  countries, 
and  2,598  whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown.  In  the  year  ending 
June  1st,  in  1850,  there  occurred  12,808  deaths,  or  about  13  in  every 
thousand  persons,  and  in  the  same  period,  1,182  paupers  received  aid,  of 
whom  322  were  foreigners,  at  an  expense  of  nearly  §50  to  the  individual. 
There  were  at  the  same  time  353  blind,  of  whom  12  were  colored ;  537 
deaf  and  dumb,  of  whom  4  were  colored ;  563  insane,  of  whom  7  were 
colored,  and  938  idiots,  of  whom  13  were  colored  persons.  Of  the  pop- 
ulation, 233  were  engaged  in  mining,  148,806  in  agriculture  3,076  in 
commerce,  20,590  in  manufactures,  89  in  navigating  the  ocean,  627  in 
internal  navigation,  and  2,257  in  the  learned  professions. 

Counties. — Indiana  is  divided  into  91  counties,  viz:  Adams,  Allen, 
Bartholomew,  Benton,  Blackford,  Boone,  Brown,  Carroll,  Cass,  Clark, 
Clay,  Clinton,  Crawford,  Daviess,  Dearborn,  Decatur,  De  Kalb,  Delaware, 
Du  Bois,  Elkhart,  Fayette,  Floyd,  Fountain,  Franklin,  Fulton,  Gibson, 
Grant,  Greene,  Hamilton,  Hancock,  Harrison,  Hendricks,  Henry,  Howard, 
Huntington,  Jackson,  Jasper,  Jay,  Jefferson,  Jennings,  Johnson,  Knox, 
Kosciusco,  La  Grange,  Lake,  Laporte,  Lawrence,  Madison,  Marion,  Mar- 
shall, Martin,  Miami,  Monroe,  Montgomery,  Mortjan,  Noble,  Ohio,  Orange, 
Owen,  Parke,  Perry,  Pike,  Porter,  Posey,  Pulaski,  Putnam,  Randolph, 
Ripley,  Rush,  Scott,  Shelby,  Spencer,  Stark,  Steuben,  St.  Joseph,  Sulli- 
van, Switzerland,  Tippecanoe,  Tipton,  Union,  Vanderburgh,  Vermilion, 
Vigo,  Wabash,  Warren,  Warwick,  Washington,  Wayne,  Well.'!,  White, 
and  Whitley.     Capital,  Indianapolis. 

Cities  and  Towns. — New  Albany  is  the  largest  town ;  population 
in  1850,  8,181;  the  other  principal  towns  are  Madison,  population,  8,012; 
Indianapolis,  8,091;  Fort  Wayne,  about  4,282;  Terre  Haute,  about 
4,051  ;  Lafayette,  6,129;  Evansville,  3,235,  besides  a  number  of  other 
towns  between  1,000  and  2,000  each.     According  to  the  Indiana  State 


580  INDIANA. 

Sentinel,  the  population  of  New  Albany,  Indianapolis,  Madison,  Evans- 
villo,  and  Layfayettc,  in  185t,  were  respectively,  in  the  order  named, 
17,000;  16,000;  14,000;  10,000,  and  9,000. 

GovKKNMENT. — The  Grovernor  and  Lieutenant  Governor,  are  both 
elected  by  the  people  for  3  years.  The  former,  who  receives  $1,500 
per  annum,  can  only  be  elected  once  in  any  period  of  six  years.  The 
latter  is  ex-officio  president  of  the  Senate,  and  receives  §3  per  day  during 
the  sessions  of  the  Legislature.  The  Senate  consists  of  50,  and  the 
House  of  Kepresentativcs  of  100  members,  both  elected  by  the  people; 
the  former  for  four,  and  the  latter  for  one  year.  The  secretary  of  State, 
auditor,  superintendent  of  public  schools,  and  treasurer,  are  each  chosen 
by  the  people  for  two  years.  The  judiciary  consists  of  a  supreme  court, 
composed  of  not  less  than  three,  or  more  than  five  judges,  elected  by  the 
people  for  six  years  ;  and  of  thirteen  circuit  courts,  presided  over  by  judges 
elected  by  the  people  of  each  district,  for  sis  years.  The  judges  of  the 
supreme  court  receive  81,300  per  annum.  Justices  of  the  peace  are 
chosen  bj'  the  people  of  each  township  for  four  years.  Any  voter  of 
good  moral  character  may  practice  law,  and  any  white  male  of  21  years 
of  age,  born  in  the  United  States,  or  any  foreigner,  resident  of  the 
United  States  one  year,  and  who  has  declared  his  intention,  according  to 
law,  of  becoming  a  citizen,  may  vote,  after  six  months'  residence  in  the 
State.  Indiana  is  entitled  to  11  members  in  the  National  House  of 
Representatives,  and  13  electoral  votes  for  president  of  the  United  States. 

Banks,  Finances. — The  State  debt,  principal  and  interest,  in  18-i7, 
was  $14,374,0-10 ;  but  by  an  act  of  the  legislature  of  that  year,  the 
bondholders  took  the  State's  interest  in  the  Wabash  and  Erie  Canal, 
which  they  were  to  finish  for  half  this  debt,  while  the  State  should  issue 
new  certificates  for  the  other  half.  In  1853,  the  State  liabilities  were 
§6,805,435.  In  January,  1854,  there  were  44  banks,  with  an  aggregate 
capital  of  85,524,552,  a  circulation  of  §7,116,827,  and  81,820,760  in 
coin.  The  free-banking  law  prevails  in  this  State.  The  assessed 
value  of  property  in  1850  was  8152,870,339;  the  public  debt,  June 
30,  1853,  was  87,712,880.  The  expenses,  exclusive  of  debt  and 
schools,  benevolent  institutions,  etc.,  were  8150,000.  Receipts  for  the 
year  ending  November  1,  1853,  81,620,943,74,  and  expenditures, 
81,509,305.32. 

History. — Indiana  was  settled  in  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century  by  the  French,  who  remained  here,  without  much  accession  to 
their  numbers,  till  long  after  the  close  of  the  American  Revolution. 
Like  other  French  settlements,  they  were  nearly  stationary,  as  far  as 
regarded  increase  from  without,  until  the  arrival  of  the  Americans 
among  them;  enjoying  life  with  the  characteristic  cheerfulness  of  their 
nation,  and  mingling  with  the  neighboring  savages,  not  only  on  terms 
of  amity,  but  sometimes  forming  matrimonial  alliances  with  them.  In 
1800,  Indiana  became,  in  conjunction  with  Illinois,  a  territorial  govern- 
ment, and  in  1816,  an  independent  member  of  the  confederacy.  In  18x1, 
the  savages  of  the  Shawnee  tribe,  led  on  by  their  prophet,  and  incited,  ic 
is  said,  by  the  British,  who  put  arms  into  their  hands,  attacked  the 
American    settlements,    and   committed    great   depredations.       General 


INDIANA.  581 

Harrison  being  sent  against  them,  routed  them  completely  at  Tippecanoe 
but  with  the  loss  of  200  of  his  own  troops. 

Indianapolis,  the  capital  of  Indiana,  and  seat  of  justice  of  Marion 
county,  on  the  West  Fork  of  White  river,  at  the  crossing  of  the  national 
road,  and  immediately  below  the  mouth  of  Fall  creek,  109  miles  north- 
west of  Cincinnati,  and  8G  miles  north-west  of  Madison.  Latitude 
39°  46'  north,  longitude  86°  5'  west.  It  is  situated  in  a  fertile  and 
extensive  plain,  very  nearly  equidistant  from  the  several  boundaries  of 
the  State.  When  this  place  was  selected  for  the  capital  of  Indiana,  in 
1820,  the  whole  country  for  40  miles  in  every  direction  was  covered 
with  a  dense  forest.  On  the  1st  of  January,  1825,  the  public  offices  of 
State  were  removed  from  Gorydon,  and  the  seat  of  government  was 
permanently  established  here.  The  streets  generally  cross  each  other  at 
right  angles,  excepting  4  diagonal  streets,  which  converge  to  a  circular 
area  in  the  center  of  the  town.  The  principal  public  buildings  are  on 
^Yashington  street,  which  is  120  feet  wide.  Several  other  streets  are  90 
feet  wide.  The  State-house,  erected  at  a  cost  of  $60,000,  is  an  elegant 
building,  surmounted  by  a  dome,  and  having  10  Doric  columns  on  each 
front.  Its  dimensions  are  180  feet  long  by  80  wide.  Among  the  public 
buildings  may  be  mentioned  the  governor's  house,  the  court-house,  a 
large  Masonic  hall,  the  Bates  house,  the  largest  hotel  in  the  State,  besides 
many  other  hotels,  2  market  houses,  and  the  depot  of  the  Madison  and 
Indianapolis  railroad,  350  feet  long,  by  56  wide.  In  1853,  there  were 
26  churches,  and  3  others  in  course  of  construction.  Indianapolis  is 
said  to  contain  a  greater  number  of  churches  in  proportion  to  its  popu- 
lation than  any  other  city  in  the  Union.  A  State  lunatic  hospital 
was  established  here  in  1848,  and  in  1853  had  163  patients.  Indianapo- 
lis is  also  the  seat  of  the  Indiana  Central  Medical  College,  founded  in 
1849.  In  1852  it  had  8  professors  and  50  students.  Great  attention 
is  paid  to  education,  and  the  public  schools  are  in  a  very  flourishing 
condition.  There  are  2  banks,  and  seven  or  eight  newspapers  are 
published  here,  one  of  which  is  a  daily.  The  city  contains  several  iron 
founderies,  flouring  mills,  and  manufactories  of  steam-engines,  paper, 
window-sashes,  and  other  articles.  Indianapolis  is  the  terminus  of  seven 
railroads,  viz.,  the  Madison  and  Indianapolis,  opened  in  1847,  the 
Lafayette,  the  Terre  Haute  and  Indianapolis,  the  Indiana  Central,  the 
Indianapolis  and  Bellefontaine,  the  Peru  and  Indianapolis,  and  the 
Lawrenceburg  and  Upper  Mississippi  railroad.  Population  in  1840, 
2,692;  in  1850,  8,090;  in  1853,  about  12,000. 

Madison  is  a  flourishing  city,  river-port,  and  seat  of  justice  of 
Jelferson  county,  on  the  Ohio  river,  90  miles  below  Cincinnati,  44  miles 
above  Louisville,  and  86  miles  south -south-east  of  Indianapolis,  in  latitude 
38°  46'  north,  longitude  85°  21'  west.  It  is  advantageously  situated 
for  trade,  and  is  equal,  if  not  superior  to  any  town  of  the  State  in 
population  and  importance.  Steamboats  make  regular  passages  between 
this  port  and  other  towns  of  the  Mississippi  valley.  The  navigation  is 
usually  open  all  winter  in  ordinary  seasons.  Several  steamboats  are 
owned  here.  Madison  is  the  south  terminus  of  the  Madison  and 
Indianapolis  railroad,  which  was  completed  in  1848,  and  doing  a  large 


582  INDIANA. 

business  in  conveying  freight  and  passengers.  The  city  is  beautifully 
situated  in  a  valley  nearly  3  miles  in  length,  which  is  enclosed  on  tbo 
north  by  steep  aud  rugged  hills  about  400  ibet  high.  The  site  is  elevated 
30  or  40  feet  above  the  highest  floods.  Madison  is  well  built,  con- 
taining a  larger  proportion  of  brick  houses  than  is  usual  in  the  towns 
of  Indiana.  It  has  a  court-house,  a  jail,  2  market-houses,  1  bank,  2 
large  public  schools,  and  about  15  churches.  There  are  4  or  5  news- 
papers published  here.  Several  of  the  streets  are  paved,  and  lighted 
with  gas.  A  considerable  amount  of  capital  and  labor  is  employed  in 
manufactures  of  cotton,  wool,  iron,  machincr}-,  and  oil,  and  the  estab- 
lishments for  packing  pork  are  very  extensive.  First  settled  in  1808. 
Population  in  1840,  3,798;  in  1850,  including  North  Madison  village, 
8,681 ;  in  1853,  about  12,000. 

New  Albany,  capital  of  Floyd  county,  lies  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Ohio  river,  2  miles  below  the  Falls,  3  miles  below  Louisville,  and  136 
miles  below  Cincinnati.  Latitude  38°  18'  north,  longitude  85°  51'wesc. 
It  is  the  southern  terminus  of  the  New  Albany  and  Salem  railroad, 
which  extends  to  Michigan  City,  287  miles,  having  recently  been  com- 
pleted. It  is  remarkable  for  its  rapid  growth  and  active  trade;  in  fact, 
it  may  be  considered  the  most  commercial  town  in  the  State  excepting 
Madison,  which  contains  a  nearly  equal  population.  Steamboats  arrive 
and  depart  daily  to  all  points  on  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi.  The  streets 
are  wide  and  straight,  and  furnished  with  pleasant  sidewalks.  The  town 
contains  about  12  churches,  a  collegiate  institute,  a  Presbyterian  theo- 
logical seminary,  2  banks,  and  2  printing  offices.  Two  newspapers  are 
published  here.  Steamboat  building  is  carried  on  more  extensively  here 
than  at  any  other  place  on  the  Ohio,  scarcely  excepting  Cincinnati;  there 
are  also  manufactories  of  iron,  brass,  bagging,  etc.  A  plank  road,  20 
miles  long,  extends  from  New  Albany  to  Corydon.  Laid  out  in  1813. 
About  1,640  buildings  have  been  erected  in  the  city  within  the  last  year. 
Population  in  1840,  4,226;  in  1850,  8,181;  in  the  beginning  of  1854, 
about  14,000. 

Fort  Wayne,  a  flourishing  town,  capital  of  Allen  county,  is  situated 
at  the  confluence  of  the  St.  Joseph's  and  St.  Mary's  rivers,  which  form 
the  Maumee,  and  on  the  Wabash  and  Erie  canal,  122  miles  east-north- 
east of  Lafayette,  and  112  miles  north-east  of  Indianapolis.  Fort  Wayne 
is  a  town  of  rapid  growth,  and  is  one  of  the  most  important  places  in  the 
State.  It  is  the  western  terminus  of  the  Ohio  and  Indiana  railroad 
which  connects  with  the  Ohio  and  Pennsylvania  railroad  at  Crestline, 
and  is  to  be  extended  westward  to  Chicago.  When  this  road  is  finished, 
Fort  Wayne  will  be  connected  with  Philadelphia  by  a  continuous  line  of 
railways  more  than  600  miles  in  length.  Another  railroad  is  in  course 
of  construction  to  Muncie.  Several  plank-roads  lead  from  this  place  to 
difi"erent  parts  of  the  State  and  of  Ohio.  It  has  8  churches,  a  bank,  a 
Methodist  female  college,  and  2  newspaper  offices.  The  surrounding  re- 
gion is  highly  productive,  and  a  large  portion  of  the  land  is  under  culti- 
vation. On  the  site  of  the  town  was  the  old  "  Twight-wee  village,"  of 
the  Miami  tribe.  Here  Fort  Wayne  was  erected  in  1794,  by  order  of 
General  Wayne,  and  it  continued  to  be  a  military  post  until  1819.     The 


IOWA.  583 

Miamies  were  removed  beyond  the  Mississippi  in  1841.     Population  in 
1853,  estimated  at  6,500. 

Lafayette,  capital  of  Tippecanoe  county,  lies  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Wabash  river,  and  ou  the  Wabash  and  Erie  canal,  66  miles  north-west 
of  Indianapolis,  and  123  miles  south-east  from  Chicago,  latitude  40°  25' 
north,  longitude  86°  49'  west.  It  is  pleasantly  situated  on  gradually 
rising  ground,  which  affords  a  delightful  view  of  the  river  and  the  neigh- 
boring hills.  It  is  one  of  the  largest  towns  on  the  canal  above  named, 
and  is  considered  the  fourth  of  the  State  in  respect  to  population.  The 
Wabash  and  Brie  canal  connects  it  with  Lake  Erie  and  the  Ohio  river. 
Railroads  have  recently  been  completed  from  Lafayette  to  Indianapolis, 
and  to  Crawfordsville.  These  advantages,  together  with  the  fertility  of 
the  surrounding  country,  render  it  a  place  of  active  trade,  and  the  prin- 
cipal grain  market  in  the  State.  It  contains  a  court-house  which  cost 
$20,000,  4  banks,  a  county  seminary,  and  about  10  churches,  some  of 
which  are  large  and  handsome  buildings.  It  has  also  several  paper- 
mills,  iron  founderies,  and  large  establishments  for  packing  pork.  Three 
weekly  and  two  daily  newspapers  are  published  here.  The  surrounding 
country  consists  of  fertile  prairies,  interspersed  with  oak  openings.  Set- 
tled in  1825.  Population  in  1846, 1,700 ;  in  1850,  6,129  :  in  1854,  about 
9,000. 


IOWA. 


The  State  of  Iowa  is  bounded  north  by  Minnesota  Territory,  east  by 
the  Mississippi,  which  separates  it  from  the  States  of  Wisconsin  and  Illi- 
nois, south  by  Missouri,  and  west  by  Indian  Territory  and  Minnesota, 
from  the  former  of  which  it  is  separated  by  the  Missouri,  and  from  the 
latter  by  the  great  Sioux  river.  It  lies  (with  the  exception  of  a  small 
projection  in  the  south-east,  between  the  Dcs  Moines  and  the  Mississippi 
rivers)  between  40°  30'  and  43°  30'  north  latitude,  and  between  90°  and 
97°  west  longitude,  being  about  300  miles  in  extreme  length  from  east 
to  west,  and  about  208  miles  in  breadth,  including  an  area  of  50,914 
square  miles,  or  32,584,960  acres,  of  which  only  824,682  were  improved 
in  1850.  According  to  a  State  census  in  1852,  5,618,207  acres  were  oc- 
cupied. 

Face  op  the  Country. — The  surface  of  Iowa  is  generally  composed 
of  rolling  prairies,  having  notliing  within  its  limits  which  approaches  a 
mountain  in  elevation.     The  highest  ground  in  the  State  is  a  plateau  ia 


584  IOWA. 

the  north-west,  called  "Couteau  des  Prairies,"  whicli  enters  the  state 
from  Minnesota.  A  small  portion  in  the  north-east,  on  the  Mississippi, 
is  rugged  and  rocky,  and  Table  mound,  a  conical  elevation  -with  a  fiat 
summit,  3  or  4  miles  from  Dubuque,  is,  perhaps,  500  feet  high.  The 
State,  however,  may  be  generally  described  as  a  rolling  prairie,  crossed 
by  rivers  whose  banks  are  skirted  with  wood.  There  are  said  to  be  some 
swamps  in  the  north-west  portion  of  the  State.  The  prairies,  though 
sometimes  20  miles  across,  are  rarely  more  than  5  or  10. 

Geology. — The  great  coal-field  of  Missouri  and  Iowa,  occupying  the 
center  and  southern  parts  of  the  latter  State,  and  extending  out  in  the 
form  of  a  semicircle,  is  surrounded  on  every  side  but  the  southern  by  a 
belt  of  upper  carboniferous  limestone.  The  Mississippi,  on  the  south- 
east of  the  State,  has  its  channel  in  a  bed  of  the  lower  carboniferous 
limestone.  The  great  drift  deposits  from  Minnesota  enter  the  north  of 
Iowa.  A  narrow  strip  of  the  lead-bearing  magnesian  limestone  lies  on 
the  Mississippi  to  the  north-east,  and  is  succeeded  on  the  south-west  first 
by  a  broad  belt  of  upper  magnesian,  and  then  by  a  second  of  limestone 
of  the  Devonian  period.  The  coal  veins  of  Iowa  are  not  nearly  so  thick 
as  those  of  Illinois,  being  seldom  more  than  four  or  five  feet.  The  prai- 
ries of  this  State  are  sprinkled  over  with  boulders,  some  of  them  of  im- 
mense size.  One  measured  by  Professor  Owen  was  500  feet  in  circum- 
ference, 12  feet  high,  and  probably  as  many  beneath  the  soil. 

Minerals. — Iowa  is  rich  in  mineral  resources,  and  but  one-tenth  of 
the  great  lead  region  of  the  upper  Mississippi  lies  in  this  State.  The  ore 
is  abundant,  but  lies  deeper  than  on  the  east  side  of  the  river.  Lead- 
mines  have  been  opened  in  Dubuque  and  Clayton  counties.  Zinc  and 
copper  are  also  found  in  the  same  localities,  and  in  connection  with  the 
lead.  In  1853,  there  were  shipped  from  Dubuque  and  Buena  Vista, 
3,256,970  pounds  of  lead.  The  great  bituminous  coal-field  of  Iowa  and 
Missouri  has  an  extent  of  near  200  miles  from  east  to  west,  and  140  from 
north  to  south,  within  the  former  State,  and  occupying  most  of  the  cen- 
tral and  southern  portions.  Copper  has  been  recently  discovered  iu 
Cedar  county  in  considerable  quantities. 

EiVERS. — The  rolling  prairies  of  Iowa  are  furrowed  by  several  impor- 
tant rivers,  which  cross  it  in  a  south-east  direction,  and  help  to  swell  the 
volume  of  waters  in  the  great  Mississippi,  into  which  they  discharge 
themselves.  The  Des  Moines,  the  most  important  of  these,  has  its  sources 
in  Minnesota,  and  traversing  the  entire  State,  forms  near  its  mouth  a 
small  portion  of  the  south-east  boundary.  Its  length  is  about  450  miles, 
250  of  which  are  navigable  for  light  steamboats  at  high  water.  The 
other  rivers  which  flow  into  the  Mississippi,  proceeding  in  order  north- 
ward, are  the  Skunk,  Iowa,  (the  Eed  Cedar,  a  branch  of  the  Iowa,) 
Wapsipinicon,  Makoqueta,  Turkey,  and  Upper  Iowa.  The  Skunk  is 
about  200,  the  Iowa  300,  and  the  rivers  last  named  from  100  to  200  miles 
in  length.  The  Iowa  is  navigable  for  steamboats  110,  and  the  Cedar  river 
60  miles.  The  Makoqueta  and  the  Wapsipinicon  have  rapid  currents, 
and  furnish  abundant  water-power.  The  Missouri,  and  its  tributary,  the 
great  Sioux,  form  the  west  boundary.  The  Little  Sioux,  the  next  impor- 
tant tributary  of  the  Missouri  from  Iowa,  has  a  course  of  little  more  than 


IOWA.  585 

100  miles.     There  are  a  few  small  lakes  in  the  north  and  west  parts  of 
the  State. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — The  principal  claim  of  this  new 
and  as  yet  scarcely  explored  State,  on  the  attention  of  travelers,  must 
chiefly  rest  upon  the  beauty  of  its  undulating  prairies,  or  its  picturesque 
landscapes.  There  are,  however,  a  few  objects  which  may  be  classed 
among  natural  curiosities,  of  which  the  following  are  the  most  prominent. 
Numerous  sinks,  or  circular  depressions  in  the  surface  of  the  ground, 
from  10  to  20  feet  across,  are  found  iu  different  places,  and  particularly 
on  Turkey  river,  in  the  north  part  of  the  State.  Small  mounds,  from  3 
to  6  feet  high,  and  sometimes  10  or  12  in  a  row,  are  found  on  the  same 
stream,  within  10  or  15  miles  of  its  mouth.  A  cave,  several  rods  in  ex- 
tent, exists  in  Jackson  county,  from  which  flows  a  stream  large  enough 
to  turn  a  mill.  The  Upper  Iowa  and  Makoqueta  rivers  have  worn  their 
channels  through  magnesian  limestone  rocks,  leaving,  on  the  southern 
banks,  clifi"s,  worn  by  the  rain,  frost,  and  winds,  into  resemblances  of 
castles,  forts,  etc. 

Climate,  Soil,  and  Productions. — According  to  meteorological  ta- 
bles kept  at  Muscatine,  in  1851,  by  T.  S.  Parvin,  Esq.,  the  maximum  of 
January  was  46°,  the  minimum,  16°  ;  for  February,  maximum  52°,  mini- 
mum 0°;  March,  maximum  78°,  minimum  12°;  April,  maximum  70°, 
minimum  24°;  May,  maximum  82°,  minimum  23°;  June,  maximum 
85°,  minimum  44°;  July,  maximum  92°,  minimum  44°;  August,  maxi- 
mum 85°,  minimum  52°;  September,  maximum  91°,  minimum  30°; 
October,  maximum  79°,  minimum  18°;  November,  maximum  51°,  mini- 
mum 14°;  December,  maximum  56°,  minimum  18°.  Greatest  heat,  July 
27,  92°;  greatest  cold,  December  16,  18°;  range,  110°.  The  Missis- 
sippi closed  January  30th  ;  opened  February  21st.  Last  frost,  May  24th ; 
first  in  Autumn,  September  28th.  Ilainy  days,  101 ;  53  of  which  were  in 
May,  June,  and  July;  20  snowy  days,  55  cloudy,  88  clear,  and  212 
variable.  The  amount  of  rain  that  fell  during  the  entire  year  was  72.4 
inches.  A  frost  in  May  killed  most  of  the  fruit.  The  peach-tree  blos- 
soms in  April,  fall  wheat  ripens  in  July,  spring  wheat  in  August,  and 
Indian  corn  in  October.  The  rivers  are  frozen  over  from  2  to  8  months 
on  an  average  each  winter.  The  soil  of  Iowa  is  generally  excellent  and 
of  easy  cultivation,  with  prairie  and  woodland  intermingled.  The 
valleys  of  the  Red  Cedar,  Iowa,  and  Des  Moines,  (we  quote  Owen's 
Geological  Report,)  as  high  as  latitude  42°  or  42°  31',  presents  a  body 
of  arable  land,  which,  taken  as  a  whole,  for  richness  in  organic  elements, 
for  amount  of  saline  matter,  and  due  admixture  of  earthly  silicates, 
afi'ords  a  combination  that  belongs  only  to  the  most  fertile  upland  plains. 
After  passing  latitude  42°  30'  north,  near  the  confines  of  the  Couteau 
des  Prairies,  a  desolate,  knobby  country  commences,  the  highlands 
being  covered  with  gravel  and  supporting  a  scanty  vegetation,  while  the 
low  grounds  are  either  wet  or  marshy,  or  filled  with  numerous  ponds  or 
lakes,  and  where  the  eye  roves  in  vain  in  search  of  timber.  North  of 
41°  30',  and  between  the  head  waters  of  the  Grand,  Nodaway,  and 
Nishnabotona  rivers,  the  soil  is  inferior  in  quality  to  that  south  of  the 
same  parallel.     The  staples  of  this  State  are  Indian  corn,  wheat,  and 


689  IOWA. 

live  stock,  besides  considerable  quantities  of  oats,  rye,  buckwheat,  barley, 
Irish  potatoes,  butter,  cheese,  hay,  wool,  maple-sugar,  beeswax  and 
honey ;  and  some  rice,  tobacco,  beans,  peas,  sweet  potatoes,  orchard  fruit, 
wine,  grass-seeds,  hops,  flax,  and  silk  are  produced.  There  were  14,805 
fiirms,  including  82-4,682  acres  of  improved  land,  in  Iowa  in  1850,  pro- 
ducing 8,656,799  bushels  of  Indian  corn;  1,530,581  of  wheat;  1,524,845 
of  oats;  276,120  of  Irish  potatoes;  52,516  of  buckwheat;  25,093  of 
barley;  19,916  of  rye;  373,898  pounds  of  wool;  2,171,188  of  butter; 
209,840  of  cheese;  89,055  tons  of  hay;  78,407  pounds  of  maple-sugar; 
live  stock  of  the  value  of  $3,689,275;  slaughtered  animals,  $821,164; 
market  products,  $8,848;  and  orchard  products,  $8,434.* 

Forest  Trees. — Iowa  is  in  many  places  destitute  of  timber ;  along 
the  rivers,  however,  it  is  well  wooded,  except  near  their  sources.  On  the 
intervals  between  the  rivers  there  are  often  prairies  of  from  15  to  20 
miles,  without  so  much  as  a  bush  higher  than  the  wild  indigo  and  com- 
pass-plant. The  greatest  scarcity  of  trees  is  north  of  42°.  Ash,  elm, 
sugar,  and  white  maple  grow  in  alluvion  belts  of  from  one-fourth  to  one  mile 
in  width  on  the  river  banks.  The  other  forest  trees  are  poplar,  various 
species  of  oak,  black  and  white  walnut,  hickory,  locust,  ironwood,  cotton- 
wood,  lime  or  basswood,  and  some  pine  on  the  northern  parts  of  the  State. 
Oak  constitutes  the  larger  part  of  the  timber  of  the  State.  The  peach 
grows  too  luxuriantly,  and  blooms  too  soon  to  admit  of  its  being  culti- 
vated to  advantage.  The  grape,  gooseberry,  and  wild  plum  are  indi- 
genous. 

Manufactures. — As  a  newly  settled  State,  Iowa  can  of  course  have 
made  as  yet  but  little  progress  in  manufactures ;  though  she  has  within 
her  limits  two  important  elements  of  manufacturing  industry,  viz. : 
abundance  of  coal  and  water-power.  In  1850  there  were  482  establish- 
ments, producing  each  $500  or  upward  annually;  of  these  3  were  engaged 
in  the  manufacture  of  iron,  employing  $5,500  capital,  and  17  male  hands, 
consuming  raw  material  worth  $2,524,  and  producing  castings,  etc.,  worth 
$8,500 ;  1  woolen  factory,  employing  $31,225  capital,  and  7  male  hands, 
consuming  raw  material  worth  $3,500,  and  producing  14,000  yards  of 
stuffs,  valued  at  $13,000;  and  $19,000  invested  in  manufacturing  malt 
and  spirituous  liquors,  consuming  51,150  bushels  of  Indian  corn,  and 
7,200  of  rye,  and  producing  160,000  gallons  of  whisky,  etc.  Homemade 
manufactures  were  valued  at  $221,292.  In  1852,  there  was  invested  in 
mills  and  distilleries  the  sum  of  $280,438. 

Internal  Improvements. — Only  eight  years  a  member  of  the  con- 
federacy, the  energies  of  Iowa  have  hitherto  been  chiefly  directed  to  th 
opening  of  common  roads  and  making  other  improvements.  Still  sh 
bad,  in  January,  1854,  480  miles  of  railroad  in  course  of  construction, 
and  others  projected,  which,  when  completed,  will  connect  the  Missis- 
sippi, at  Burlington,  Davenport,  and  Dubuque,  with  the  Missouri  at 
Council  Blufi"s,  and  two  other  points,  the  one  south  and  the  other  north 
of  Council  Bluffs;  and  also  unite  Dubuque  and  Keokuk  with  St.  Louis, 

•  By  a  State  census  in  1852,  the  horses  numbered  61,088  ;  sheep,  171,325  ;  swine, 
277,090,  and  the  neat  cattle  valued  at  $1,998,489. 


IOWA.  587 

Missouri.  These  roads  are  already  under  contract  from  Davenport  to 
Fort  Des  Moines,  from  Muscatine  to  Fredonia,  and  to  Moscow. 

Commerce. — Iowa  has  no  foreign  trade,  but  is  very  favorably  located 
for  internal  traffic,  washed  as  it  is  by  the  Missouri  on  the  west,  and 
Mississippi  on  the  east,  and  its  interior  traversed  by  the  Des  Moines, 
Iowa,  Cedar,  and  other  rivers.  The  principal  articles  of  export  are 
grain,  flour,  lead,  pork,  and  live  stock.  In  the  year  1852-53,  57,500 
hogs  were  packed  in  Iowa,  and  45,060  in  1853-54. 

Education. — All  lands  granted  by  Congress,  all  escheated  estates, 
and  whatever  per  centage  Congress  may  allow  on  the  public  land  sold 
within  the  State,  are  to  constitute  a  fund,  the  interest  of  which  and  the 
rent  of  unsold  lands,  together  with  military  and  court  fines,  are  to  form 
an  appropriation  for  the  support  of  public  schools  in  Iowa,  which  are  to 
be  under  the  direction  of  a  superintendent  of  public  instruction,  elected 
for  three  years  by  the  people.  Schools  must  be  kept  open  at  least  three 
months  of  every  year  in  each  district.  An  appropriation  is  also  made 
for  the  support  of  Iowa  University,  which  is  to  be  perpetual.  There 
were,  in  1850,  two  colleges  in  Iowa  with  100  pupils  and  $2,000  income ; 
742  public  schools,  with  29,616  pupils  and  $51,492,  of  which  $19,078 
was  from  public  funds  and  $16,149  from  taxation;  31  academies  and 
other  schools,  with  1,051  pupils,  $7,980  income,  of  which  $8,000  was 
from  endowments;  and  35,473  pupils  attending  school  as  returned  by 
families  ;  of  the  adult  population,  1,853  could  not  read  and  write,  of 
whom  1,077  were  foreigners. 

Religions. — There  were  193  churches  in  Iowa  in  1850,  of  which  the 
Baptists  owned  20;  Christians,  10;  Congregationalists,  14;  Episcopalians, 
5;  Friends,  5;  Lutherans,  4;  Methodists,  71;  Presbyterians,  38;  and 
the  Roman  Catholics,  18.  The  rest  were  divided  among  German  Re- 
formed, Moravians,  Unionists,  and  Universalists. — See  Tables  of  Religions, 
Appendix.  Number  of  persons  to  each  church,  1,000.  Value  of  church 
property,  $177,425. 

Periodicals. — In  1850  there  were  published  in  Iowa,  2  tri  and  semi- 
weekly,  25  weekly  newspapers,  and  2  monthly  periodicals,  with  an  aggre- 
gate annual  circulation  of  1,512,800  copies. 

Public  Institutions. — In  1850  there  were  4  public  libraries  in  Iowa, 
with  an  aggregate  of  2,650  volumes,  and  28  schools  and  Sunday-school 
libraries  with  3,140  volumes.  There  is  a  State  Prison  at  Fort  Madison, 
on  the  Mississippi. 

Population. — Iowa  had  43,112  inhabitants  in  1840,  and  192,214  iu 
1850,  of  whom  100,885  were  white  males,  90,994  white  females,  168 
colored  males,  and  167  colored  females,  (By  State  census  in  1852,  the 
population  was  228,873,  and  in  1854,  326,014,  being  an  increase  of 
133,800  since  1850.)  This  population  was  divided  among  38,517  fami- 
lies-, occupying  32,962  dwellings.  Of  the  population  only  41,357  were 
born  in  the  State,  129,674  in  other  States  of  the  Union,  3,785  in  Eng- 
land, 4,485  in  Ireland,  1,064  in  Scotland  and  Wales,  1,756  in  British 
America,  7,152  in  Germany,  382  in  France,  2,208  in  other  countries,  and 
382  whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown,  making  more  than  10  per  cent, 
of  the  population  of  foreign  birth.      Population  to  the  square  mile,  377. 


THE     DISAPPOINTED     GOLD     SEEKER. 


GOLD     SEEKER'S      GRAVES     ON     THE     TURON 


688  IOWA. 

During  the  year  ending  June  1,  1850,  2,044  deaths  occurred,  or  about 
10  in  every  1000  persons ;  135  paupers  received  support  in  the  samo 
period,  of  whom  35  were  foreigners.  In  the  same  year  there  were  59 
deaf  and  dumb,  all  white;  50  blind,  do.;  42  idiotic,  do.;  and  94  insane 
do.  Of  the  population,  217  were  engaged  in  niiuing,  1 0,409  in  agricul- 
ture; 355  in  commerce;  1,029  in  manufactures;  13  in  navigating  the 
ocean,  78  in  internal  navigation,  and  305  in  the  learned  professions. 

Counties. — There  are  in  Iowa  49  organized  counties,  viz  :  Allomakee, 
Appanoose,  (or  Appanuse,)  Benton,  Black  Hawk,  Boone,  Buchanan, 
Cedar,  Clarke,  Clayton,  Clinton,  Dallas,  Davis,  Decatur,  Delaware  Des 
Moines,  Dubuque,  Fayette,  Fremont,  Henry,  Iowa,  Jackson,  Jasper, 
Jefferson,  Johnson,  Jones,  Keokuk,  Lee,  Linn,  Louisa,  Lucas,  Madison, 
Mahaska,  Marion,  Marshall,  Monroe,  Muscatine,  Page,  Polk,  Pottawato- 
mie, Poweshiek,  Scott,  Tama,  Taylor,  Van  Buren,  Wapello,  Warren 
Washington,  Wayne,  and  Winnishiek.     Capital,  Fort  Des  Moines. 

Cities  and  Towns. — In  1854,  Burlington  had  a  population  of  7,306; 
Dubuque,  6,634;  Davenport,  5,272;  Keokuk,  4,789;  Muscatine,  3,694; 
Iowa  City,  2,570,  and  Fort  Madison,  2,010. 

Government,  Finances,  Banks,  etc. — The  governor  of  Iowa  is 
chosen  for  4  years,  and  receives  $1,000  per  annum;  the  senate,  com- 
posed of  30  members,  for  the  same  period,  and  the  house  of  represen- 
tatives, of  59  members,  for  2  years ;  all  elected  by  popular  vote.  The 
sessions  of  the  Legislature  are  biennial  and  convene  on  the  first  Monday 
in  December  of  every  alternate  year.  The  members  receive  $2  per  diem 
for  the  first  50  days  of  the  session,  but  after  that  only  SI  a  day;  82  are 
allowed  for  every  20  miles  traveled.  The  judiciary  is  composed — 1.  Of 
a  supreme  court,  presided  over  by  one  chief  and  two  associate  judges, 
receiving  each  $1,000  per  annum.  2.  Of  district  courts,  each  presided 
over  by  a  single  judge,  receiving  §1,000  per  annum.  The  judges  of  the 
supreme  court  are  elected  by  joint  vote  of  the  Legislature  for  6  years, 
and  the  district  judges  by  the  people  of  their  respective  districts  for  5 
years.  The  assessed  value  of  property  in  Iowa  in  1853  was  849,384,906  ; 
and  public  debt,  §79,795,  in  December,  1854.  There  was  but  one  bank 
in  the  State  in  June,  1852,  with  a  capital  of  ^200,000,  circulation 
§100,000,  and  coin  §50,000. 

History. — Iowa  formed  originally  a  part  of  the  Louisiana  purchase,  then 
successively  a  part  of  Missouri,  Wisconsin,  and  lastly  of  Iowa  Territor}'. 
It  became  an  independent  member  of  the  confederacy  in  1846.  Settle- 
ments were  permanently  commenced  about  1833;  the  first  at  Burlington. 
Iowa  City,  a  flourishing  town,  and  seat  of  justice  of  Johnson  county, 
is  beautifully  situated  on  the  bluffs  which  rise  from  the  left  bank  of  the 
Iowa  river,  about  80  miles  from  its  mouth,  33  miles  north-west  of  the 
Mississippi  river  at  Muscatine,  and  about  760  miles  in  a  straight  line 
west  by  north  of  Washington.  Latitude  41°  39'  north,  longitude  91° 
39'  west.  When  this  place  was  selected  as  the  seat  of  government,  in 
May,  1839,  it  was  entirely  in  a  state  of  nature,  and  within  a  year  from 
that  time  it  contained  from  500  to  700  inhabitants.  The  town  is  em- 
bowered among  groves  of  trees,  and  surrounded  by  fertile  prairies.  The 
principal  streets  are  Capitol  street  and  Iowa   avenue,  which  are  about 


IOWA.  589 

100  feet  in  width.  At  tlie  intersection  of  these,  on  a  commanding 
eminence,  stands  the  Capitol,  a  fine  edifice  of  the  Doric  order,  120  feet 
long  by  60  feet  wide.  The  material  was  quarried  in  this  vicinity,  and 
is  marked  with  spots  and  rings,  which  give  it  the  name  of  "  bird's-eye 
marble."  The  cost  is  estimated  at  ^100,000.  The  river  is  navigable 
by  steamboats  from  its  mouth  to  this  place  in  all  stages.  Several  rail- 
ways are  projected  or  in  course  of  construction,  which,  when  finished 
will  connect  the  town  with  Dubuque,  Keokuk,  and  Davenport.  The 
river  atFords  in  this  vicinity  excellent  water-power,  which  is  partially 
improved.  Iowa  city  contains  several  churches,  a  college,  an  academy, 
and  other  schools.  Three  or  four  newspapers  are  published  here. 
Population  in  1850,  2,262;  in  1853,  about  4,000. 

Burlington,  a  flourishing  commercial  city,  seat  of  justice  of  Des 
Moines  county,  and  formerly  the  capital  of  Iowa,  is  situated  on  the 
Mississippi  river,  45  miles  above  Keokuk,  250  miles  above  St.  Louis, 
and  88  miles  south-east  of  Iowa  icity.  In  respect  to  population,  this 
town  is  not  equalled  by  any  in  thV  State,  excepting  Dubuque,  which  is 
of  nearly  the  same  extent.  It  continues  to  maintain  a  steady  and 
healthy  growth,  notwithstanding  the  removal  of  the  seat  of  government 
in  1839.  The  river  in  this  part  of  its  course  is  a  broad  and  beautiful 
stream  of  clear  water,  and  the  town,  situated  partly  on  the  top  of  the 
bluffs,  overlooks  a  section  of  country  aboundiug  in  rich  and  delightful 
scenery.  Burlington  is  regularly  laid  out,  and  the  greater  part  of  the 
houses  are  of  brick  or  stone.  It  contains  (January,  1854,)  9  churches, 
a  Baptist  college  just  established,  a  hotel,  said  to  be  the  largest  in  the 
State,  2  steam  flouring-mills,  4  saw-mills,  1  planing-mill,  2  founderies,  a 
door  and  sash-factory,  and  2  large  public-school  buildings.  Two  daily 
papers,  1  tri-weekly,  and  4  weeklies  are  issued.  Gas-works  are  about 
being  established.  There  are  two  plank-roads — one  50  miles  long,  ex- 
tends westward  from  this  city  to  Fairfield — and  a  railroad  to  be  opened 
in  1855,  will  connect  it  with  Peoria  and  other  towns  of  Illinois.  Popu- 
lation in  1854,  estimated  at  7,000. 

Dubuque,  a  flourishing  city,  and  seat  of  justice  of  Dubuque  county, 
is  situated  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Mississippi  river,  about  200  miles 
above  Burlington,  450  miles  above  St.  Louis,  and  24  miles  by  water 
from  Galena.  The  situation  of  Dubuque  is  regarded  by  some  persons 
as  more  beautiful  than  that  of  any  other  city  in  Iowa.  It  stands  on  a 
broad  platteau  or  terrace,  which  extends  along  the  river  for  several  miles. 
The  city  is  regularly  laid  out,  and  contains  a  number  of  handsome 
buildings.  Dubuque  is  the  central  depot  of  the  mining  region  of  Iowa, 
and  is  a  place  of  active  trade.  Large  quantities  of  lead  are  taken  from 
the  mines  in  this  vicinity,  and  sent  down  the  river  by  steamboats;  stone 
coal  and  limestone  are  also  abundant.  It  is  stated  in  the  public  journals 
that  a  quarry  of  variegated  brown  marble  has  been  recently  found  on 
the  bank  of  the  river  opposite  Dubuque.  The  city  contains  a  Catholic 
cathedral,  a  number  of  Protestant  churches,  a  United  States  land-office, 
4  newspaper  offices,  and  2  banks.  In  1852,  about  100  houses,  chiefly  of 
brick,  were  erected,  and  large  sums  were  expended  in  improving  the 
harbor  and  in  paving  the  streets.  The  reported  value  of  imports  in 
38 


590  IOWA. 

1852,  was  $1,670,390,  of  which  $560,000  was  for  dry  goods,  $488,000 
for  groceries,  and  $186,000  for  steam  engines  and  machinery.  The  value 
of  exports  was  $620,140,  including  116,000  pigs  of  load,  valued  at 
$348,000.  The  number  of  steamboat  arrivals  in  1851  was  351 ,  and 
in  1852,  417.  Dubuque  is  the  terminus  of  the  northern  branch  of  the 
Illinois  Central  railroad,  and  of  the  Dubuque  and  Keokuk  railroad,  the 
former  of  which  (September,  1854,)  is  nearly  or  quite  completed,  and  the 
latter  in  an  advanced  process  of  construction.  It  is  the  oldest  town  in 
the  State,  having  been  settled  by  French  Canadians  about  1786.  Popu- 
lation about  8,000. 

Davenport,  the  capital  of  Scott  county,  is  finely  situated  on  the 
Mississippi  river,  at  the  foot  of  the  upper  rapids,  opposite  the  town 
of  Eock  Island,  230  miles  above  St.  Louis,  and  60  miles  east  of  Iowa 
city.  It  has  advantages  which  indicate  that  it  will  continue  to  grow  in 
extent  and  importance.  The  prosperity  of  Davenport  is  increased  by 
its  connection  with  the  East  by  means  of  the  Chicago  and  Rock  Island 
railroad.  The  Davenport  and  Iowa  railroad,  opened  about  the  1st  of 
January,  1854,  to  Iowa  city,  is  located  to  Fort  Des  Moines,  and  is  ulti- 
mately to  be  extended  to  Council  Bluffs.  During  low  water  the  naviga- 
tion is  obstructed  by  the  rapids,  which  extend  20  miles  above  this  place. 
Two  or  three  newspapers  are  published  here.  Iowa  college  was  estab- 
lished in  Davenport  in  1846  or  1847,  and  is  a  flourishing  institution. 
Stone  coal  is  so  abundant  and  cheap  in  the  vicinity,  that  steam-power 
is  chiefly  used  for  manufacturing  purposes.  Davenport  is  built  at  the 
foot  of  a  blufi",  which  rises  gradually  from  the  river,  with  a  chain  of 
rounded  hills  in  the  background.  The  scenery  around  the  town  is 
scarcely  surpassed  by  any  on  the  river.  It  was  first  settled  in  1837, 
and  is  now  incorporated  as  a  city.  Population  in  1854,  estimated 
at  4,500. 

Keokuk,  is  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  "Lower  Rapids"  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi river,  205  miles  above  St.  Louis,  and  125  miles  south  of  Iowa 
city.  It  is  at  the  head  of  navigation  for  the  larger  class  of  steamers, 
and  the  natural  outlet  of  the  fertile  valley  of  the  Des  Moines,  which  is 
the  most  populous  part  of  the  State.  A  line  of  splendid  steam-packets 
communicates  daily  between  Keokuk  and  St.  Louis.  The  number  of 
steamboat  arrivals  in  1852  was  stated  to  be  795.  The  Lower  Rapids 
are  11  miles  in  extent,  in  the  course  of  which  the  river  has  a  fall  of  24 
feet.  The  cargoes  of  vessels  ascending  the  river  are  transhipped  over  the 
rapids  by  lighters  drawn  by  horses,  and  then  reshipped  on  board  of 
steamboats  for  their  destination.  Keokuk  stands  on  a  basis  of  fine  lime- 
stone, affording  an  excellent  material  for  building.  It  contains  the  med- 
ical department  of  the  State  university,  6  or  7  churches,  3  academies, 
several  public  schools,  and  a  hospital.  Two  weekly  newspapers  and  1 
medical  journal  are  published  here.  The  town  contains  also  between 
80  and  90  stores,  2  steam  flouring-mills,  and  2  iron  founderies.  The 
reported  value  of  merchandise  sold  here  in  1852,  was  $1,345,000.  A 
railroad  is  in  course  of  construction  from  this  place  to  Dubuque,  180 
miles.  Keokuk  is  thought  to  be  one  of  the  most  eligible  points  for 
bridging  the  Mis.sissippi,  which  is  here  about  1  mile  wide.     The  river 


IOWA.  591 

flows  over  a  bed  of  limestone,  and  is  bordered  by  the  bluffs,  which  rise 
abruptly  nearly  150  feet  high.  Between  these  bluffs  is  an  island  1,700 
feet  wiile.  The  population  of  Keokuk,  in  184:5,  was  4G0;  in  1852  it 
amounted  to  3,96:^  j  in  185-4,  to  4,789. 

Muscatine,  formerly  Bloomington,  capital  of  Muscatine  county,  is 
situated  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  100  miles  above  Keokuk 
and  32  miles  south-east  of  Iowa  city.  Commencing  at  the  head  of  th 
upper  rapids  of  the  Mississippi,  the  river  may  be  traced  in  a  direction 
almost  due  west  for  more  than  40  miles,  until  it  strikes  a  series  of  bold 
rocky  bluffs,  by  which  its  course  is  suddenly  turned  towards  the  south. 
At  the  apex  of  this  bend,  on  the  summit  of  these  bluffs,  is  situated  the 
city  of  Muscatine.  The  place  was  first  settled  by  the  whites  in  1836, 
previous  to  which  time  it  had  been  an  Indian  trading  post,  known  by  the 
name  of  Manatheka.  It  is  now  one  of  the  most  populous  and  commer- 
cial towns  of  the  State,  and  is  the  shipping  point  for  an  extensive  and 
fertile  Territory.  In  consequence  of  the  bend  in  the  river,  Muscatine 
is  nearer  the  center  of  the  State  than  the  other  ports  on  the  Mississippi, 
and  it  naturally  commands  the  trade  of  two  great  fluvial  divisions  of 
of  Iowa,  namely,  the  valleys  of  the  Red  Cedar  and  Iowa  rivers.  There 
are  two  steam  saw  mills  in  the  city,  that  turn  out  about  4,000,000  feet  of 
lumber  annually.  The  logs  are  obtained  chiefly  from  Minnesota,  above 
the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  About  10,000,000  feet  of  lumber  are  sold 
here  yearly,  besides  large  quantities  of  laths,  shingles,  and  wooden  ware. 
Muscatine  is  about  to  derive  benefit  from  railway  communication. 
The  Muscatine  and  Oskaloosa  railroad  is  under  contract  to  Fredonia 
and  located  to  Oskaloosa,  and  it  is  thought  that  the  road  will  be  extended 
to  the  mouth  of  Platte  river.  The  Muscatine  and  Cedar  Bapids  branch 
railroad,  the  3d  division  of  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  railroad,  is  al- 
ready in  operation  to  Moscow,  and  when  completed  will  open  communica- 
tion with  the  capital  of  the  State.  The  projected  railroad  from  Bock  Island, 
Illinois,  to  Fort  Des  Moines,  is  also  expected  to  pass  through  this  city. 
Muscatine  has  a  good  landing  for  steamboats  navigating  the  Mississippi. 
The  town  contains  churches  of  9  or  10  denominations,  several  academies, 
about  thirty  stores,  and  numerous  factories  and  mills;  2  newspapers  are 
published  here.     Incorporated  a  city  in  1853.     Population  about  6,000. 

Council  Bluffs,  formerly  Kanesville,  a  post-village  and  capital  of 
Potawatomie  county,  near  the  Missouri  river,  250  miles  west  of  Iowa  city. 
It  has  30  or  40  stores.  The  Davenport  and  Iowa  railroad  is  intended  ulti- 
mately to  be  extended  to  this  place.  Population  in  1854,  3,500.  It  was 
first  settled  by  the  Mormons.  Many  emigrants  to  Utah  get  their  outfit 
hero. 

Fort  Des  Moines,  (de-moin',)  is  situated  at  the  junction  of  the  Dos 
Moines  and  Baccoon  rivers,  120  miles  west  of  Iowa  city.  The  seat  of  the 
State  government  was  established  in  1855.  The  Des  iMoines  is  suscepti- 
ble of  steam  navigation  to  this  point,  which  is  the  terminus  of  the  slack- 
water  improvement  now  prosecuted  by  the  Statj.  TIk^  projected  rail- 
road from  Davenport  on  the  Mississippi  river  to  Council  Bluffs  is  expected 
to  pass  through  this  place.  Mines  of  stone  coal  have  been  opened  in 
the  vicinity,  and   timber   is  abundant.     The  river   furnishes  extensive 


592  MISSOURI. 

wator-pinver,  whicli  is  partially  cmploj-L'd  in  flouring  mills  and  saw  mills. 
2  newspapers  are  published  here.  The  old  Fort  Des  Moines  was  evac- 
uated by  the  troops  of  the  United  States  iu  1840. 

Fort  Madison,  capital  of  Loe  county,  on  the  Mississippi  river,  12  miles 
above  the  head  of  the  lower  rapids,  22  miles  above  Keokuk,  and  22  miles 
below  Burlington.  The  situation  is  beautiful  and  healthful;  the  ground 
rising  gradually  from  the  water  to  the  west  j^art  of  the  town.  The  lat- 
ter is  well  built,  with  a  large  proportion  of  brick  houses.  It  contains 
the  State  prison,  a  handsome  brick  court-house,  and  5  or  6  churches  of 
the  same  material.  2  or  3  ferry-boats  ply  constantly  across  the  river, 
which  is  nearly  a  mile  wide.  Fort  Madison  is  a  place  of  much  activity 
in  trade  and  manuflictures;  in  the  latter  of  which  it  appears  to  have 
made  more  progress  than  any  other  town  in  the  State.  2  or  3  news- 
papers are  published  here.  Large  quantities  of  grain,  pork,  etc.,  are 
shipped  at  this  place,  which  is  also  an  extensive  depot  for  pine  lumber. 
Population  in  1850,  2,300;  in  1853,  about  3,000. 


Missoum. 


The  Missouri  river,  which  is  the  longest  tributary  stream  in  the  world, 
has  its  source  in  the  Rocky  mountains,  latitude  45°  north,  longitude  110" 
30'  west.  The  springs  which  give  rise  to  this  river,  are  not  more  than 
a  mile  from  the  head  waters  of  the  Columbia,  which  flows  west  to  the 
Pacific  ocean.  The  first  500  miles  of  its  course  to  the  Great  Falls  is 
nearly  north;  then  inflecting  east-north-east,  it  reaches  its  extreme 
northern  bend  at  the  junction  of  White  Earth  river,  latitude  48°  20' 
north.  After  this  its  general  course  is  south-east,  till  it  joins  the  Mis- 
sissippi in  about  38°  50'  north  latitude,  and  90°  10'  west  longitude.  At 
the  distance  of  411  miles  from  the  source  of  the  Missouri,  are  what  are 
denominated  the  gates  of  the  Rocky  mountains  For  a  distance  of  nearly 
6  miles,  the  rocks  rise  perpendicularly  from  the  water's  edge  to  a  hight 
of  1,200  feet.  The  river  is  compressed  to  a  width  of  150  yards,  and  for 
the  first  3  miles  there  is  only  one  spot,  and  that  of  but  a  few  yards 
in  extent,  on  which  a  man  could  stand  between  the  water  and  the  per- 
pendicular walls.  At  a  distance  of  110  miles  below  this,  and  2,575 
miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  are  the  Great  Falls,  where  the 
river  descends,  by  a  succession  of  falls  and  rapids,  357  feet  in  16  miles. 
The  perpendicular  falls,  commencing  down  the  stream,  are,  first  one  of 
87  feet,  one  of  19  feet,  one  of  47  feet,  and  one  of  26  feet.     Between  and 


MISSOURI.  693 

below  these  are  continual  rapids  of  from  3  to  18  feet  descent.  These 
falls,  next  to  Niagara,  are  regarded  as  the  grandest  in   North  America. 

The  bed  of  the  Missouri  commences  at  the  confluence  of  3  small 
streams,  about  equal  in  length,  and  running  nearly  parallel  to  each  other 
— Jefi"erson's,  Madison's,  and  Gallatin's.  The  Yellowstone,  800  yards 
wide  at  its  mouth,  and  probably  the  largest  tributary  of  the  Missouri, 
enters  it  from  the  sovith-west,  1,216  miles  from  its  navigable  source. 
The  two  rivers,  at  their  junction,  arc  about  equal  in  size.  Steamboats 
ascend  to  this  point,  and  may  ascend  farther,  both  by  the  main  stream 
and  its  affluent.  Chienne  river,  400  yards  wide  at  its  mouth,  enters  the 
Missouri  from  the  south-west,  1,310  miles  from  its  mouth;  White  river, 
300  yards  wide,  enters  it  from  the  south-west,  l,l*iO  miles  from  its 
mouth;  Big  Sioux  river,  110  yards  wide,  enters  it  from  the  north-east, 
853  miles  from  its  mouth ;  Platte  river,  600  yards  wide,  enters  it  from 
the  south-west,  600  miles  from  its  mouth;  Kansas  river,  233  yards  wide, 
enters  it  from  the  south-west,  340  miles  from  its  mouth;  Grand  river, 
190  yards  wide,  joins  it  from  the  north,  240  miles  from  its  mouth,  and 
Osage  river,  397  yards  wide,  flows  into  it  from  the  south-west,  133  miles 
from  its  junction  with  the  main  stream.  The  Missouri  is  stated  to  be 
3,096  miles  long  to  its  confluence  with  the  Mississippi;  add  to  this,  1,253 
miles,  the  distance  its  waters  must  flow  to  reach  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
and  we  have  an  entire  length  of  4,349  miles.  There  is,  however,  reason 
to  believe  that  the  early  statements  respecting  the  extent  of  this  river 
and  its  tributaries  were  somewhat  exaggerated.  Throughout  the  greater 
part  of  its  course,  the  Missouri  is  a  rapid,  turbid  stream.  No  serious 
obstacle,  however,  is  presented  to  navigation  from  its  mouth  to  the  Great 
Falls,  a  distance  of  2,575  miles,  excepting  perhaps  its  shallowness  during 
the  season  of  the  greatest  drought,  when  steamboats  meet  with  difficulty 
in  ascending.  The  flood  from  this  river  does  not  reach  the  Mississippi 
till  the  rise  in  the  Red,  the  Arkansas,  and  the  Ohio  rivers  has  nearly 
subsided.  Vast  prairies,  with  narrow  strips  of  alluvion  skirting  the 
streams,  compose  the  Missouri  basin,  excepting  the  upper  portion  of  the 
river,  which  flows  through  an  arid  and  sterile  region.  The  entire  extent 
of  area  drained,  is  estimated  at  500,000  square  miles. 

Missouri,  one  of  the  largest  of  the  United  States,  and  the  first  formed 
wholly  west  of  the  Mississippi  river,  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Iowa, 
(from  which  it  is  separated  for  about  30  miles  on  the  north-east  by  the 
Des  Moines  river,)  and  on  the  east  by  the  Mississippi  river,  which 
divides  it  from  Illinois,  Kentucky,  and  Tennessee;  on  the  south  by  the 
Arkansas,  and  on  the  west  by  Indian,  Kansas,  and  Nebraska  Territories; 
from  the  latter  two  of  which  it  is  partly  separated  by  the  Missouri  river. 
This  State  lies  (with  the  exception  of  a  small  projection  between  the 
St.  Francis  and  the  Mississippi  river,  which  extends  to  36°)  between 
36°  30'  and  40°  36'  north  latitude,  and  between  89°  10'  and  96°  west 
longitude,  being  about  285  miles  in  its  greatest  length  from  east  to  west, 
and  280  in  width  from  north  to  south,  including  an  area  of  67,380 
square  miles,  or  43,123,200  acres,  only  2,937,425  of  which  were  im- 
proved in  1850. 

Face  of  the  Countey. — This  great  State  is  mostly  level  or  undulat- 


694  MISSOURI. 

ing  north  of  the  Missouri,  ■while  the  portion  south  of  that  river  (much 
the  larger  part  of  the  State)  exhibits  a  greater  variety  of  surface.  In 
the  south-east  part,  near  the  Mississippi  river,  and  south  of  Cape  Girar- 
deau, is  an  extensive  marsh,  reaching  beyond  the  State  into  Arkansas, 
and  occupying  an  area  of  about  3,000  square  miles.  The  remainder  of 
this  portion,  between  the  IMississippi  and  the  Osage  rivers,  is  rolling  and 
gradually  rising  into  a  hilly  and  mountainous  district,  forming  the  out- 
skirts of  the  Ozark  mountains.  Beyond  the  Osage  river,  at  some  dis- 
tance, commences  a  vast  expanse  of  prairie  land,  which  stretches  away  to 
the  Kocky  mountains.  The  ridges  forming  the  Ozark  chain,  which  prob- 
ably in  no  place  reaches  an  elevation  of  2,000  feet,  extend  in  a  north- 
east and  south-west  direction,  separating  the  waters  that  flow  north-east 
into  the  Missouri  river  from  those  that  flow  south-east  into  the  Missis- 
pippi  river.  The  geological  features  of  this  State  are  very  interesting. 
One  of  the  richest  coal-fields  perhaps  in  the  world,  occupies  the  greater 
part  of  Missouri  north  of  the  Osage  river,  and  extends  nearly  to  the  north 
boundary  of  Iowa.  A  carboniferous  limestone,  which  comes  to  the  sur- 
face on  the  east  and  west  borders  of  the  State,  forms  a  rim  from  5  to  40 
miles  in  breadth.  The  lower  magnesian  limestone  crops  out  on  the 
Missouri  river,  from  25  miles  above  Jefferson  city  to  within  35  miles  of 
its  mouth,  with  occasional  obtrusions  of  sandstone.  Schoolcraft  thus 
speaks  of  the  Ozark  mountains:  "The  Ozark  is  a  term  applied  to  a 
broad,  elevated  district  of  highlands,  running  from  north  to  south  cen- 
trally through  the  States  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas.  It  has  on  the  east, 
the  striking  and  deep  alluvial  tract  of  the  Mississippi  river,  and  on  its 
west  the  woodless  plains  or  deserts  which  stretch  below  the  Ilocky  moun- 
tains." 

Minerals. — Missouri  is  particularly  rich  in  minerals,  and  a  vast 
region  in  the  neighborhood  of  Iron  mountain  and  Pilot  knob  is,  perhaps, 
unsurpassed  on  the  globe  for  productiveness  in  iron  of  the  best  quality. 
Though  existing  in  the  greatest  abundance  and  purity  in  this  locality, 
this  mineral  is  found  on  the  Maramec  river,  at  Birmingham  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi, 120  miles  below  St.  Louis,  and  in  other  parts  of  the  State.  The 
principal  mines  of  lead  in  Missouri,  according  to  Whitney,  are  in  Wash- 
ington county,  on  the  branches  of  the  Maramec  river.  There  are  a  few 
others  in  Franklin  and  Jefferson  counties,  but  the  aggregate  product  of 
lead  from  all  the  mines  in  the  State,  in  1851,  was  only  estimated  at  1,500 
tons,  a  decline  of  more  than  one-half  from  that  of  1842.  Copper  exists 
throughout  the  mineral  region,  (a  tract  of  17,000,000  or  18,000,000 
acres,)  but  is  most  abundant  near  the  La  Motte  mines.  It  is  found 
combined  with  nickel,  manganese,  iron,  cobalt,  and  lead,  and  these  often 
yield  34  per  cent,  of  the  pure  metal.  Of  the  other  metals  named,  all 
except  nickel  are  found  in  considerable  quantities.  Silver  exists  in  the 
lead  ore,  350  pounds  of  pure  metal  having  been  obtained  from  1,000,000 
pounds  of  lead.  Tin  has  been  found  in  small  quantities.  Of  the  non- 
metallic  minerals,  limestone  abounds  north  of  the  Missouri  river,  and 
forms  a  good  building-stone.  Marbles  beautifully  veined  and  crystal- 
line are  found  in  parts  of  the  State;  also  gypsum,  sandstones,  red  and 
white,  porphyries,  sienite,  saltpetre,  sulphate  of  baryta,  kaolin,  and  infe- 


MISSOURI.  595 

rior  clays.  The  red  sandstone  is  of  too  coarse  and  loose  a  texture  for 
architectural  purposes,  but  the  white,  found  near  St.  Genevieve,  makes 
superior  glass.  In  a  letter  to  us,  Professor  Silliman,  Sr.,  says:  "At  a 
place  called  Arcadia,  the  iron,  in  a  dyke  several  yards  wide,  is  bounded 
by  walls  of  porphyry." 

Coal. — Bituminous  coal,  much  of  it  cannel  coal,  exists  in  vast  beds  on 
both  sides  of  the  Missouri  river,  below  the  mouth  of  the  Osage,  and  40 
miles  up  that  river.  The  great  cannel  coal-bed  in  Callaway  county  con- 
sists, in  one  place,  of  a  solid  stratum  24  feet,  and  in  another  75  feet  iu 
thickness,  and  is  believed  to  be  the  largest  body  of  cannel  coal  known. 
Coal  is  also  found  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lexington,  and  iu  many  other 
places. 

Rivers. — Missouri  enjoys  the  navigation  of  the  two  greatest  rivers  in 
the  United  States,  if  not  in  the  world.  By  means  of  the  Mississippi  river, 
which  coasts  her  entire  eastern  boundary,  she  can  hold  commercial  inter- 
course with  the  most  northern  territory  of  the  Union,  with  the  whole  of 
the  valley  of  the  Ohio,  with  some  of  the  Atlantic  States,  and  with  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico.  By  means  of  the  Missouri,  her  other  great  river,  she 
may  extend  her  internal  commerce  to  the  Bocky  mountains,  besides  receiv- 
ing the  products  that  may  be  furnished  in  future  times  by  its  multitude 
of  tributaries.  The  Missouri  river  coasts  the  north-west  of  the  State  for 
about  200  miles,  (following  its  windings,)  and  then  darts  across  the  State 
in  a  direction  a  little  south  of  east,  dividing  it  into  two  portions,  of  which 
about  a  third  is  north,  and  the  remainder  south  of  that  river.  The  south 
shore  is  bounded  in  many  places  by  bluffs  of  from  100  to  300  feet  in 
hight,  while  the  north  is  often  bottom  lands,  not  generally  liable  to  inun- 
dation. Both  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  rivers  are  navigable  for  large 
steamers  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  State,  though  the  navigation  of  the 
latter  is  impeded  by  the  swiftness  of  its  current  (twice  that  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi) and  by  the  shifting  sands.  The  Missouri  river  receives  a  num- 
ber of  tributaries  within  the  limits  of  the  State,  the  principal  of  which 
are  the  Chariton  and  Grand  rivers  from  the  north,  and  the  Osage  and 
Gasconade  from  the  south.  The  principal  tributaries  of  the  Mississippi 
river  within  the  State  are  the  Salt  river,  north,  and  the  Maramec  river, 
south  of  the  Missouri  river.  The  St.  Francis  and  White  rivers,  with  their 
branches,  drain  the  south-east  part  of  the  State,  and  pass  into  Arkansas. 
The  Osage  is  navigable  for  steamboats  275  miles,  and  it  is  proposed  to 
improve  its  navigation,  as  well  as  that  of  the  Grand,  Salt,  and  Maramec 
rivers.     Fine  plank  and  timber  are  floated  down  the  Gasconade  river. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — We  shall  hardly  be  able  to  do 
justice  to  Missouri  in  this  respect,  in  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge 
of  the  interior,  as  there  are  doubtlsss,  in  her  mountain  recesses,  gorges, 
waterfalls,  and  caves  whose  fame  has  not  yet  reached  us.  To  the  geolo- 
gist, the  State  already  possesses  ample  inducements  for  a  visit;  while  the 
lover  of  fine  scenery  will  find  much  to  interest  him  in  the  wild  bluffa 
both  of  the  Missouri  and  the  Mississippi  rivers,  which  rise  to  an  elevation 
varying  from  50  to  300  feet.  In  the  south-east  part  of  the  State,  the 
scene  of  the  earthquakes  of  1811  and  1812,  may  be  viewed  many  traces 
of  that  startling  event :  among  others  arc  to  be  seen,  at  the  bottoms  of 


596  MISSOURI. 

lakes,  submerged  forests  and  canebrakes.  Pilot  knob,  444  feet  high, 
and  Iron  mountain,  1,500  feet  high,  the  former  of  steel,  as  it  is  said,  and 
the  latter  of  nearly  pure  iron,  are  well  worth  a  visit  from  the  curious  and 
scienti6c  tourist.  Big  spring,  at  the  head  of  the  Muramec  river,  rising 
in  a  very  deep  basin,  100  feet  across,  and  surrounded  by  banks  as  many 
feet  in  perpendicular  hight,  gives  rise  to  a  stream  60  feet  wide,  and  3 
feet  deep,  and  with  sufficient  force  to  turn  2  mills  at  its  source.  The 
water  is  extremely  cold.  Schoolcraft  describes  a  cave  near  some  of  the 
head  waters  of  the  White  river  thus: — "The  opening  appeared  to  be  80 
or  90  feet  wide,  and  30  high.  A  vast  gloomy  rotunda  opened  before  us, 
which  very  soon  after  entry  increased  to  a  hight  of  60  or  70  feet,  and  in 
width  to  150  or  200  feet.  This  hall  extended  into  the  rock  southerly, 
branching  oif  into  lateral  avenues.  We  explored  the  main  gallery  for 
500  or  600  yards,  when  we  met  with  obstructions." 

Climate. — The  climate  of  Missouri  is  very  variable  :  in  the  winter 
the  thermometer  sinks  below  zero,  and  the  rivers  are  frozen  so  as  to  ad- 
mit the  passage  of  heavily  laden  vehicles.  The  summers  are  excessively 
hot,  but  the  air  dry  and  pure.  In  the  autumns,  bilious  and  remittent 
fevers  are  common  on  the  river  bottoms.  Pulmonary  complaints,  how- 
ever, to  such  a  degree  as  to  terminate  in  consumption,  arc  infrequent. 

Soil  and  Productions. — The  soil  of  Missouri,  speaking  generally,  is 
good,  and  of  great  agricultural  capabilities;  but  the  most  fertile  portions 
are  in  the  river  bottoms,  which  are  a  rich  alluvion,  (in  some  cases,  how- 
ever, mixed  with  sand,)  and  in  that  portion  north  of  the  Missouri  river, 
except  in  the  east  where  a  sandy  soil  prevails.  South  of  the  Missouri 
there  is  a  greater  variety  in  the  soil,  but  much  of  it  is  fertile,  and  even  in 
the  mountains  and  mineral  districts  there  are  rich  valleys,  and  about  the 
sources  of  the  White,  Eleven  Points,  Current,  and  Big  Black  rivers,  the 
soil,  though  unproductive,  furnishes  a  valuable  growth  of  yellow  pine. 
The  marshy  district  of  the  south-east  part  will,  when  the  population  shall 
have  become  sufficiently  dense  to  justify  the  expense  of  drainage,  be 
probably  one  of  the  most  fertile  portions  of  the  State.  The  great  staple 
of  Missouri  is  Indian  corn,  and  more  hemp  is  produced  than  in  any  State 
except  Kentucky.  The  other  great  products  are  wheat,  oats,  tobacco, 
wool,  peas,  beans,  Irish  and  sweet  potatoes,  fruits,  butter,  cheese,  pork, 
hay,  flax,  honey,  and  beeswax;  considerable  rye,  buckwheat,  market  pro- 
ducts, grass-seeds,  maple  sugar,  and  some  rice,  barley,  wine,  hops,  silk, 
and  molasses.  In  1850  there  were  in  the  State  54,458  farms,  occupying 
2,938,426  acres  of  improved  land,  (less  than  60  acres  to  each  farm,)  and 
producing  2,981,625  bushels  of  wheat;  44,268  of  rye;  36,214,537  of 
Indian  corn;  5,278,079  of  oats;  46,017  of  peas  and  beans;  936,006  of 
Irish  potatoes;  335,505  of  sweet  potatoes;  23,641  of  buckwheat;  13,696 
of  flaxseed;  17,113,784  pounds  of  tobacco;  1,627,164  of  wool;  7,834,359 
of  butter;  203,572  of  cheese;  116,925  tons  of  hay;  16,028  of  hemp; 
527,160  pounds  of  flax;  178,910  of  maple  sugar;  1,328,972  of  beeswax 
and  honey;  orchard  products  valued  at  8514,711;  market  products,  S99,- 
454;  live  stock,  819,887,580;  and  slaughtered  animals,  83,367,106. 

Forest  and  Fruit  Trees. — "The  river  bottoms  are  covered  with  a 
luxuriant  growth  of  oak,  elm,  ash,  hickory,  cottonwood,  linn,  and  white 


MISSOURI.  597 

and  black  walnut.  In  the  more  barren  districts  are  found  white  and  pin 
oak,  and  sometimes  forests  of  yellow  pine.  The  crab-apple,  papaw,  and 
persimmon  are  abundant;  as  also  the  hazel  and  pecan."  There  are  3 
species  of  wild  grape;  and  apples,  pears,  peaches,  apricots,  and  nectarines 
yield  well. 

Manufactures. — Missouri  has  not  as  yet  largely  engaged  in  this 
branch  of  industrial  employments;  though  in  1850,  there  were  3,030 
establishments,  each  producing  $500  and  upwards  annually;  2  of  these 
were  cotton  factories,  employing  $102,000  capital,  75  male  and  80  female 
hands,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $86,446,  and  producing  13,260 
bales  of  batting,  valued  at  $142,000;  1  woolen  factory,  employing  $20,- 
000  capital,  15  male  and  10  female  hands,  consuming  raw  material  worth 
$16,000,  and  producing  12,000  yards  of  cloth,  and  6,000  pairs  of  blank- 
ets, worth  a  total  value  of  $56,000;  13  iron  forges,  founderies,  etc.,  em- 
ploying $848,100  capital,  and  722  male  hands,  consuming  raw  m:iterial 
worth  $254,996,  and  producing  25,413  tons  of  pig,  cast,  and  wrought 
iron,  valued  at  $719,795;  capital  invested  in  the  manuficture  of  mult, 
and  spirituous  liquors,  $298,900,  consuming  124,400  bushels  of  barley, 
309,200  of  Indian  corn,  24,900  of  rye,  and  31  tons  of  hops,  producing 
44,850  barrels  of  ale,  etc.,  and  939,400  gallons  of  wine,  whisky,  etc. ; 
and  148  tanneries,  employing  $228,095  capital,  consuming  raw  material 
worth  $247,956,  and  producing  leather  valued  at  $866,241.  Homemade 
manufactures  were  produced  to  the  value  of  $1,674,705. 

Internal  Improvements. — (3n  the  1st  of  January,  1855,  Missouri 
had  50  miles  (that  portion  of  the  Pacific  nearest  to  St.  Louis)  of  completed 
railroad,  and,  according  to  Hunt's  Merchant's  Magazine,  963  in  course 
of  construction,  intended  to  connect  Hannibal  with  St.  Joseph,  and  St. 
Louis  with  Kansas — the  great  Pacific  railroad.  Another  road,  a  branch 
of  the  Pacific,  is  to  connect  St.  Louis  and  Springfield  with  ISTeosho.  A 
railroad  is  also  contemplated  from  St.  Louis  northward  to  the  Iowa  line, 
and  one  from  the  same  point  to  Iron  mountain.  Plank-roads  are  coming 
much  into  vogue  in  this  State,  as  well  as  elsewhere.  Three  per  cent,  on 
the  sale  of  public  lauds  is  devoted  to  internal  improvements.  Tho 
State  loans  $3,000,000  to  the  Pacific,  $750,000  to  the  Iron  mountain,  and 
$1,000,000  to  the  St.  Joseph  railroad. 

Commerce. — St.  Louis  is  the  groat  center  of  internal  commerce  of 
the  Mississippi  and  its  tributaries,  which  must  greatly  increa.sc  as  the  set- 
tlements on  those  great  rivers  extend  themselves.  It  is  also  the  depot 
of  the  fur  trade  of  the  Upper  Missouri  and  its  tributaries.  Tho  foreign 
imports  of  Missouri  (a  very  small  part  of  its  trade)  amounted,  in 
1852-53,  to  $859,654;  tonnage  of  tlie  State,  45,441,  of  which  39,431  was 
steam  tonnage;  number  of  vessels  built,  22,  of  which  11  were  steamers; 
tonnage  3,583.  Of  1,195  steamers  owned  in  the  United  States  in  1853, 
126  belonged  to  St.  Louis.  The  exports  of  this  State  consist  mainly  of 
lead,  pork,  flour,  wheat,  tobacco,  hemp,  flax,  and  live  stock.  Missouri 
has  long  been  tho  principal  .scat  of  an  active  caravan  trade  with  Santa 
Fe;  but  this  trade  is  not  so  extensive  as  formerly,  a  considerable  portion 
having  been  diverted  to  Texas.  (See  St.  Louis.)  Tho  leading  articles 
iujported  by  way  of  the  Ohio,  Missouri,  and  Mississippi  and  its  tributa- 


598  MISSOURI. 

lies,  in  1S54,  were  wheat,  corn,  flour,  barley,  o:its,  tobacco,  hemp,  coffee, 
hides,  pork,  k-ad,  lard,  meats  of  diftert.ut  kinds,  molasses,  sugar,  nails, 
paper,  potatoes,  salt,  rope,  whiskey,  etc. 

Education. — Missouri  has  a  scliool  fund  of  §575,608,  and  another 
fund  of  §100,000,  called  the  seminary  fund.  The  State  also  appropriates 
one-fourth  of  its  revenue  to  the  support  of  schools ;  making  an  annual 
income  of  about  §140,000,  which  is  distributed  among  the  counties. 
Every  IGth  section  of  the  public  lands  is  devoted  to  common  schools. 
According  to  the  census  of  1850,  this  State  had  9  colleges,  with  1,009 
students,  and  §79,528  income,  of  which  §23,000  was  from  endowments; 
1,570  public  schools,  with  51,754  pupils,  and  §100,770  income,  of  which 
§74,807  was  from  public  funds,  §3,024  from  taxation,  and  §7,178  from 
endowments;  204  academies  and  other  schools,  with  8,829  pupils,  and 
§143,171  income;  95,285  attending  school,  as  returned  by  families. 
According  to  the  American  Almanac  for  1854,  there  were  in  this 
State  6  colleges,  with  548  students,  and  2  medical  schools,  with 
210  students.  The  State  University,  located  at  Columbia,  in  Boone 
county,  is  endowed  with  six  townships  of  land  by  the  general  govern- 
ment. Four  counties  contended  for  the  honor  of  having  it  located  with- 
in their  limits,  and  it  was  accorded  to  Boone  because  its  citizens  sub- 
scribed most  liberally  to  its  funds.  Howard  high  school,  at  Fayette,  in 
Howard  county,  is  a  flourishing  and  successful  school.  St.  Charles  col- 
lege, at  the  town  of  St.  Charles,  was  established  by  Mr.  Collier,  who 
bequeathed  the  institution  §10,000.  Of  the  free  adult  population,  3G,- 
778,  of  whom  1,8G1  were  of  foreign  birth,  could  not  read  and  write. 

Religious  Denominations. — Of  878  churches  in  Missouri  in  1850, 
the  different  sects  of  Baptists  owned  300;  the  Christian  church,  57; 
the  Episcopalians,  11;  the  Free  church,  18;  the  Lutherans,  21  ;  the 
Methodists,  250;  the  Presbyterians,  125;  the  lloman  Catholics,  65;  and 
the  Union  church,  11.  The  rest  belonged  to  the  Boatmen's  church,  the 
Church  of  Christ,  the  Evangelists,  the  German  Protestants,  the  German 
Evangelical  church,  the  Independents,  the  Jews,  the  Mennonites,  the 
Mormons,  the  Bepublicaus,  the  Rationalists,  the  Unitarians,  and  the  Uni- 
versalists — giving  one  church  to  every  776  inhabitants.  Value  of 
church  property,  §1,561,610. 

Periodicals. — There  were  published  in  Missouri,  in  1850,  5  daily,  4 
tri  and  semi-weekly,  45  weekly,  and  7  monthly  newspapers  and  maga- 
zines, with  an  annual  aggregate  circulation  of  6,195,560  copies. 

Public  Institutions. — The  State  penitentiary  at  Jefferson  city  had, 
in  December,  1852,  282  convicts  confined  within  its  walls,  of  whom  145 
were  from  the  county  of  St.  Louis.  This  institution  is  conducted  by 
lessees,  who  pay  an  annual  rent  of  §5,000  to  the  State.  In  1853,  the 
Lunatic  asylum  at  Fulton  had  93  inmates;  and  the  Deaf  and  Dumb 
asylum  at  the  same  place  43.  The  Blind  asylum  at  St.  Louis  is  being 
enlarged.  There  were,  in  1850,  13  public  libraries,  with  23,106  volumes; 
79  school  and  Sunday-school,  with  31,650  volumes;  4  colleges,  with 
19,700,  and  1  church  library,  with  600  volumes. 

Population. — Though  originally  settled  by  the  French,  less  than 
one-third  of  one  per  cent,  of  the  present  inhabitants  of  Missouri  are 


MISSOURI.  599 

of  that  extraction.  The  population  amounted  to  20,845  in  1810;  66,- 
586  in  1820;  140,145  in  1830  ;  383,702  in  1840  ;  and  682,044  in  1850  ; 
of  whom  312,987  were  white  males,  and  279,017  females ;  1,361  free 
colored  males,  and  1,257  females  ;  43,484  male  slaves,  and  43,938  female. 
Population  to  the  square  mile,  10.49.  This  population  was  divided  into 
100,890  familes,  occupying  90,849  dwellings.  In  the  year  ending  June, 
1850,  12,121  deaths  occurred,  or  nearly  19  in  every  1,000  persons;  in 
the  same  period  2,977  paupers  received  aid,  of  whom  1,729  were  for- 
eigners, at  an  expense  of  about  $18  to  each  pauper.  Of  the  free  popu- 
lation, 266,934  were  born  in  the  State;  250,166  in  other  States;  5,379 
in  England  ;  14,734  in  Ireland;  1,225  in  Wales  and  Scotland;  1,053  in 
British  America;  44,352  in  Germany;  2,138  in  France;  3,593  in  other 
countries;  and  1,322  whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown;  making 
more  than  one-eighth  of  the  population  of  foreign  birth.  There  were  in 
the  State,  according  to  the  census,  282  deaf  and  dumb,  of  whom  19 
were  slaves;  232  blind,  of  whom  3  were  free  colored,  and  38  slaves; 
262  insane,  of  whom  2  were  free  colored  and  11  slaves ;  and  357  idiots, 
of  whom  32  were  slaves.  According  to  a  State  census  in  1852,  the  pop- 
ulation of  Missouri  was  724,687,  of  whom  87,207  were  slaves.  Of  the 
entire  population  in  1850,  742  were  engaged  in  mining;  92,408  in 
agriculture;  2,522  in  commerce;  11,100  in  manufactures;  39  in  navigat- 
ing the  ocean;  1,885  in  internal  navigation;  and  l,469iu  the  learned 
professions. 

Counties. — There  are  in  Missouri  101  counties,  viz.,  Adair,  Andrew, 
Atchison,  Audrain,  Barry,  Bates,  Benton,  Boone,  Buchanan,  Butler, 
Caldwell,  Callaway,  Camden,  Cape  Girardeau,  Carroll,  Cass,  Cedar, 
Chariton,  Clarke,  Clay,  Clinton,  Cole,  Cooper,  Crawford,  Dade,  Dallas, 
Daviess,  De  Kalb,  Dodge,  Dunklin,  Franklin;  Gasconade,  Gentry,  Greene, 
Grundy,  Harrison,  Henry,  Hickory,  Holt,  Howard,  Jackson,  Jasper, 
Jefferson,  Johnson,  Knox,  Laclede,  Lafayette,  Lawrence,  Lewis,  Lincoln, 
Linn,  Livingston,  Macon,  McDontdd,  Madison,  Marion,  Mercer,  Miller, 
Mississippi,  Moniteau,  Monroe,  Morgan,  Montgomery,  New  Madrid, 
Newton,  Nodaway,  Oregon,  Osage,  Ozark,  Perry,  Pettis,  Pike,  Platte, 
Polk,  Pulaski,  Putnam,  Ralls,  Randolph,  Ray,  Reynolds,  Ripley,  Scot- 
land, St.  Charles,  St.  Clair,-  St.  Francis,  St.  Genevieve,  St.  Louis,  Salina, 
Schuyler,  Scott,  Seneca,  Shannon,  Shelby,  Stoddard,  Sullivan,  Taney, 
Texas,  Warren,  Washington,  Wayne,  and  Wright.     Capital,  Jefferson 

Cities  and  Towns. — St.  Louis  is  the  largest  city  in  Missouri.  Pop- 
ulation in  1850,  77,854,(120,000  in  1854;  the  other  principal  towns 
are  St.  Joseph's,  population  about  5,000;  Hannibal,  2,557;  Lexington, 
2,698;  Castor,  2,084;  Jefferson  city  and  St.  Charles  city,  about  3,000 
each;  Weston,  1,915;  Cape  Girardeau,  1,500;  Palmyra,  1,284;  Caron- 
delet,  1,201 ;  and  St.  Genevieve,  Liberty,  Paris,  and  Louisiana  city,  each 
about  1,000. 

Government,  Finances,  etc. — The  governor  and  lieutenant  governor 
are  elected  by  the  popular  vote  for  4  years,  the  former  receiving  $2,000 
per  annum,  and  the  use  of  a  furnished  house,  and  the  latter  $4.50  per 
diem  during  the  session  of  the  senate,  of  which  he  is  ex-officio  president. 


600  MISSOURI. 

The  senate  consists  of  18,  and  the  house  of  representatives  of  49  mem- 
berfl,  tlie  foriucr  elected  for  4  and  the  latter  for  2  years,  by  the  people. 
The  sessions  of  the  legislature  are  biennial,  and  meet  on  the  first  Monday 
iu  IVeember.  Twelve  months'  residence  in  the  State  is  necessary  before 
exercising  the  right  of  suflfrage.  Missouri  is  entitled  to  7  members  in 
the  national  house  of  representatives,  and  to  9  electoral  votes  for  pre- 
sident. The  judiciary  consists — 1.  Of  a  supreme  court,  composed  of  3 
judges;  2.  Of  14  circuit  courts,  and  the  courts  of  St.  Louis,  (viz.,  com- 
mon pleas,  criminal,  and  probate  courts,)  and  the  common  pleas  courts 
of  Hannibal  city;  and  3.  Of  county  courts.  The  judges  of  the  su- 
preme and  circuit  courts  are  elected  for  6  years,  by  popular  vote,  and  the 
county  judges  for  4  years  in  the  same  manner.  The  supreme  court  holds 
2  sessions  annually,  one  at  St.  Louis  and  one  at  Jefferson  city.  A 
circuit  court  is  held  twice  "a  year  in  each  county,  and  has  exclusive  juris- 
diction in  criminal  matters,  and  in  all  contracts  and  matters  of  tort  over 
690.  The  county  court  is  limited  to  matters  of  the  probate  and  local 
county  affairs.  The  judges  of  the  supreme  court  receive  81,800  salary 
each;  the  circuit  judges  §1,250  each,  and  the  judges  of  the  St.  Louis 
courts  83,000.  There  is  a  recorder's  court  at  St.  Louis,  confined  to 
small  offenses.  The  assessed  value  of  property  in  the  State  in  1850 
was  898,595,463;  public  debt,  (in  1854,)  83,307,000,  of  which  82,450,- 
000  was  loans  to  railroads;  school  fund,  8575,668;  other  productive 
property,  8272,263  ;  receipts  for  the  two  years  ending  October  1,  1854, 
§808,685;  expenses,  8628,483.  Missouri  had,  in  January,  1854, 1  bank 
•with  five^branches,  with  81,215,405  capital,  8937,835  in  coin,  and  82,- 
487,580  circulation.  The  amount  of  bonds  authorized  to  be  loned  to 
railroads  was  originally  88,250,000,  of  which,  as  stated,  82,450,000  have 
already  been  issued. 

History. — Though  the  French  were  the  first  settlers,  and  for  a  long 
time  the  principal  inhabitants  of  Missouri,  yet  a  very  small  portion  of 
her  present  population  is  of  that  descent.  A  fort  was  built  by  that 
people  as  early  as  1719,  near  the  site  of  the  present  capital,  called  Fort 
Orleans,  and  its  lead-mines  worked  to  some  extent  the  next  year.  St. 
Genevieve,  the  oldest  town  in  the  State,  was  settled  in  1755,  and  St. 
Louis  in  1764.  At  the  treaty  of  1763,  it  was  assigned,  with  all  the 
Territory  west  of  the  Mississippi,  to  Spain.  "In  1780,  St.  Louis  was 
besieged  and  attacked  by  a  body  of  British  troops  and  Indians,  1,540 
strong."  During  the  siege,  60  of  the  French  were  killed.  The  seige 
was  raised  by  Colonel  Clark,  an  American,  who  came  with  500  men  to 
the  relief  of  the  place.  At  the  close  of  the  American  Revolution,  the 
Territory  west  of  the  Mississippi  remained  with  Spain  till  it  was  ceded  to 
France  in  1801.  In  1803,  at  the  purchase  of  Louisiana,  it  came  into  the 
possession  of  the  United  States,  and  formed  a  part  of  the  Territory  of  Lou- 
isana  till  the  formation  of  the  State  of  that  name  in  1812,  when  the  re- 
mainder of  the  Territory  was  named  Missouri,  from  which  (after  a 
stormy  debate  in  Congress  as  to  the  admission  of  slavery)  was  separated 
the  present  State  of  Missouri  in  1821.  In  1811  and  1812  occurred  a 
series  of  earthquakes  which,  in  the  neighborhood  of  New  Madrid  in  this 
State,  caused  the  earth  to  open,  and  entirely  changed  the  face  of  the 


MISSOURI.  601 

country,  swallowing  up  hills  and  forming  new  lakes,  while  others  at  the 
same  time  were  drained  of  their  water.  The  current  of  the  Mississippi 
was  turned  back  till  the  accumulating  waters  gained  sufficient  force  to 
break  through  the  newly  raised  barrier.  All  this  region  is  no"v?  a  widely 
extended  marsh. 

St.  Louis,  port  of  entry,  and  seat  of  justice  of  St.  Louis  county,  is 
situated  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Mississippi  river,  20  miles  below  the 
entrance  of  the  Missouri,  174  above  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  744  below 
the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  1,194  above  New  Orleans,  and  128  miles  east 
of  Jefferson  city.  Latitude  38°  87'  28"  north,  longitude  90°  15'  16" 
west.  The  site  rises  from  the  river  by  two  plateaus,  of  limestone  forma- 
tion, the  first  20  and  the  other  60  feet  above  the  floods  of  the  Missis- 
sippi. The  ascent  to  the  first  plateau,  or  bottom  as  it  may  be  termed, 
is  somewhat  abrupt;  the  second  rises  more  gradually,  and  spreads  out 
into  an  extensive  plain,  affording  fine  views  of  the  city  and  river.  St. 
Louis  extends  in  all  nearly  7  miles  by  the  curve  of  the  Mississippi,  and 
about  3  miles  back;  the  thickly-settled  portion,  however,  is  only  2  or  2^ 
miles  in  length,  following  the  river,  and  about  1^  miles  in  breadth.  The 
city  is  well  laid  out,  the  streets  being  for  the  most  part  60  feet  wide, 
and,  with  but  few  exceptions,  intersecting  each  other  at  right  angles. 
Front  street,  extending  along  the  levee,  is  upwards  of  100  feet  wide,  and 
built  up  on  the  side  facing  the  river,  with  a  range  of  massive  stone 
warehouses,  which  make  an  imposing  appearance  as  the  city  is  approached 
by  water.  Front,  Main,  and  Second  streets,  parallel  to  each  other  and 
to  the  river,  are  the  seat  of  the  principal  wholesale  business.  The  latter 
is  occupied  with  heavy  grocery,  iron,  receiving,  and  shipping  houses. 
Fourth  street,  the  fashionable  promenade,  contains  the  finest  retail 
stores.  The  streets  parallel  to  Front  and  Main  streets,  are  designated 
Second  street.  Third,  Fourth,  Fifth,  and  so  on;  and  those  on  the  right 
and  left  of  Market  street,  extending  at  right  angles  with  the  river,  are 
mostly  named  from  various  forest  trees,  similar  to  the  streets  of  Philadel- 
phia. Large  expenditures  have  been  made  from  time  to  time  in  grading 
and  otherwise  improving  the  streets  and  alleys  of  St.  Louis.  As  yet, 
but  slight  provision  has  been  made  for  public  squares.  One  handsome 
enclosure,  however,  called  Lafayette  square,  has  recently  been  laid  out 
in  the  south  section  of  the  city,  about  2  miles  south-west  of  the  court- 
house. St.  Louis  is  handsomely  built,  especially  the  new  portion  of  the 
city;  the  principal  material  is  brick,  though  limestone  is  employed  to 
some  extent. 

Public  Buildings. — It  may  be  doubted  whether  any  city  of  the 
Union  has  improved  more  rapidly  than  this  in  the  style  of  its  public 
buildings.  But  24  years  ago  a  court-house  was  erected  at  a  cost  of 
$14,000;  it  was  then  considered  a  handsome  edifice,  and  sufficient  for 
all  future  purposes.  Within  a  few  years,  however,  this  building  has 
given  place  to  a  new  structure,  now  nearly  completed,  the  cost  of  which 
will  scarcely  fall  short  of  half  a  million  of  dollars.  It  is  constructed  of 
Genevieve  limestone,  and  occupies  an  entire  square,  bounded  by  Market, 
Chestnut,  Fourth,  and  Fifth  streets.  The  style  of  architecture  some- 
what resembles  that  of  the   Capitol  at  Washington.      The  fronts  are 


602  MISSOURI. 

adorned  with  porticos,  and  in  the  interior  is  a  rotunda,  lighted  from  the 
dome.  The  "  market  and  town-house,"  erected  at  a  co.st  of  §20,000, 
has  been  pulled  down,  and  the  "Center  market  buildings,"  a  handsome 
block,  now  occupies  their  place.  A  new  city  hall  is  about  to  be  erected, 
of  a  j^ize  and  style  corresponding  to  the  present  prospects  of  the  city. 
A  new  custom-house  is  now  being  built,  at  an  estimated  cost  of  about 
$350,000.  Of  the  -i  churches — the  Catholic,  the  Presbyterian,  the 
Episcopal,  and  the  Baptist — which  were  all  the  town  contained  in  1829, 
not  a  vestige  now  remains;  but  in  their  stead  had  arisen,  in  1850,  49 
others,  viz.,  12  Catholic,  12  Methodist,  8  Presbyterian,  5  Episcopal,  2 
Unitarian,  2  Evangelical,  and  1  Boatmens',  besides  2  Jewi.sh  synagogues. 
At  the  present  time  the  number  of  churches  in  St.  Louis  is  probably  not 
less  than  GO,  several  of  which  have  cost  above  $100,000.  Of  these,  St. 
George's  (Episcopal,)  at  the  corner  of  Locust  and  Seventh  streets,  the 
Catholic  Cathedral,  on  Walnut  street,  between  Second  and  Third,  and 
the  Church  of  the  Messiah,  a  magnificent  Gothic  edifice  recently  erected 
by  the  Unitarians,  at  the  corner  of  Olive  and  Ninth  streets,  are  regarded 
as  the  finest.  The  Cathedral  is  136  feet  long,  and  84  feet  wide,  with  a 
front  of  polished  freestone  58  feet  high,  adorned  with  a  Doric  portico. 
In  the  tower  is  a  chime  of  bells,  the  heaviest  of  which  weighs  2,600 
pounds.  The  United  States  arsenal,  situated  on  Arsenal  street,  in  the 
extreme  south-east  section  of  the  city,  is  a  large  and  imposing  edifice, 
enclosed  by  handsomely-ornamented  grounds.  JeS"erson  Barracks  are 
located  about  13  miles  below,  on  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi. 

Hotels. — The  principal  hotels  in  St.  Louis  are  the  Planters'  house, 
on  Fourth  street,  between  Pine  and  Chestnut;  the  United  States  hotel, 
at  the  corner  of  Market  and  Third  streets;  the  Virginia  hotel,  corner 
of  Main  and  Green  streets ;  the  Missouri  hotel,  corner  of  Main  and 
Morgan  streets;  and  the  Monroe  house,  at  the  corner  of  Second  and 
Olive  streets.  The  Planters'  house  is  one  of  the  largest  and  finest 
hotels  in  the  West,  and  occupies  the  entire  front  between  Pine  and 
Chestnut  streets.     Another  first-class  hotel  is  also  being  erected. 

Institutions. — Among  the  benevolent  institutions  may  be  mentioned 
the  city  hospital,  the  marine  hospital,  for  which  a  new  building  has 
just  been  erected,  3  miles  below  St.  Louis;  the  sisters'  hospital,  the 
home  for  the  friendless,  and  the  orphan  asylums.  The  home  for  the 
friendless,  designed  for  the  benefit  of  aged  indigent  females,  and 
opened  October  4th,  1853,  is  situated  on  the  Carondelet  road,  about  4 
miles  from  the  court-house.  The  edifice,  formerly  "  Swiss  College," 
consists  of  a  stone  center,  75  feet  in  length,  and  two  frame  wings,  each 
from  30  to  40  feet  in  length;  the  whole  two  stories  high.  The  premises 
comprise  about  8  acres  of  ground,  variously  diversified  with  walks  and 
shade-trees.  About  §40,000  have  been  raised  for  the  support  of  the 
institution.  The  city  hospital  has  long  been  distinguished  for  the 
excellent  accommodations  which  it  aflfords  to  the  sick,  but  of  late  has 
been  found  inadequate  to  the  wants  of  the  rapidly-increasing  population. 
Its  extension,  therefore,  as  well  as  the  erection  of  new  and  suitable 
buildings  for  the  quarantine,  is  earnestly  recommended  in  the  mayor's 
message  of  October,  1853.      A  new  edifice,  intended  as  a  House  of 


MISSOURI.  603 

Refuge,  has  recently  been  completed,  and  the  building  formerly  occu- 
pied as  the  "Smallpox  hospital,"  situated  on  land  in  the  St.  Louis 
common,  known  as  the  Old  County  Farm,  has  also  been  fitted  up  for 
the  reception  of  a  juvenile  reform  school. 

The  literary  and  educational  institutions  of  St.  Louis  have,  consider- 
ing their  recent  origin,  attained  a  high  degree  of  excellence.  The 
University  of  St.  Louis,  organized  in  1832,  under  the  direction  of  the 
Catholics,  is  a  well-ordered,  well-sustained,  and  most  efficient  institution. 
The  medical  college  connected  with  it  is  also  very  flourishing.  During 
the  term  for  1852-53,  it  was  attended  by  72  students;  and  on  the  1st 
October,  1853,  it  is  said  that  the  number  of  matriculants  enrolled  for 
the  ensuing  season,  was  four  times  greater  than  any  previous  year. 
The  medical  department  of  the  Missouri  university  is  also  located  here. 
It  was  founded  in  1840,  and  during  the  winter  of  1852-53,  92  students 
attended  its  lectures.  The  members  of  both  these  colleges  enjoy  ex- 
cellent advantages  for  practice  in  the  City  hospital.  The  Mercantile 
Library  Association  of  St.  Louis  was  organized  in  1846,  and  incorpora- 
ted in  1851.  The  building  is  of  brick,  in  the  Italian  style,  105  feet  by 
127,  and  4  stories  high.  The  united  size  of  the  library  and  reading- 
room  is  80  feet  by  64.  The  lecture-room,  80  feet  by  44,  is  in  the 
second  story,  and  in  the  third  is  a  grand  hall,  the  largest  and  finest 
perhaps  in  the  whole  West,  being  105  feet  long  and  80  feet  wide.  The 
entire  cost  of  building,  including  the  site,  is  estimated  at  895,000.  The 
library  contains  upwards  of  12,000  volumes,  besides  about  100  magazines 
and  other  periodicals,  apart  from  its  newspapers.  Any  person  of  mer- 
cantile pursuits  is  admitted  as  a  member  of  the  association;  clerks 
paying  $2  initiation  fee  and  75  cents  quarterly,  and  proprietors  f5 
initiation  fee  and  $2.50  quarterly.  The  citizens  of  St.  Louis  have  given 
especial  attention  to  the  cause  of  popular  education.  Their  schools  are 
the  pride  of  the  city,  and  attended  by  upwards  of  5,000  pupils;  the 
property  is  valued  at  $500,000,  and  the  annual  income  amounts  to 
about  $50,000.  A  large  number  of  pupils  are  also  educated  in  the 
private  seminaries  of  the  city,  and  in  the  convents.  The  buildings  of 
the  latter  are  conspicuous  and  handsome  edifices. 

St.  Louis  has  about  25  publication  offices,  issuing  newspapers  and 
other  periodicals.  Seven  or  eight  newspapers  are  publislied  daily;  and 
several  have  weekly,  and  two — the  Times  and  the  Kepublican — have 
tri-weekly  and  weekly  editions.  Four  or  five  are  printod  in  the  German 
language.  The  press  is  generally  characterized  by  ability,  and  several 
of  its  issues  have  a  wide  circulation. 

Real  Estate,  Improvements,  etc. — The  value  of  real  estate  in  St. 
Louis  has  advanced  at  an  astonishingly  rapid  rate.  In  1822,  the  trus- 
tees of  the  First  Presbyterian  churcli  purchased  a  lot  fronting  150  feet 
on  Fourth  street,  and  90  feet  on  Washington  avenue  and  St.  Charles 
streets,  for  $300.  In  April,  1853,  the  ground  was  leased  for  a  term  of 
50  years  at  the  rate  of  $4,000  per  annum.  Since  then,  seven  splendid 
stores  have  been  erected  on  it,  at  a  cost  of  $50,000.  The  lot  at  the 
corner  of  Third  and  Chestnut  streets,  extending  120  feet  on  the  former, 
and  150  feet  along  the   latter,  was  sold  in   182G  for  $400.     It  is  now 


604  MISSOURI. 

valued  at  830,000,  exclusive  of  the  improvements.  In  1831,  Judge 
Lucas  conveyed  to  Samuel  Wiggins  a  lot  90  foot  front  and  135  deep,  at 
the  corner  of  Fifth  and  Chestnut  streets,  upon  which  Christ  church  now 
stands,  for  the  sum  of  ^1,600.  The  value  of  the  same  ground  is  now 
estimated  at  §2'J,000.  In  1833,  a  block  situated  between  Fourth  and 
Fifth  streets,  and  Locust  and  St.  Charles  streets,  was  sold  for  $6,000;  it 
IS  now  said  to  be  worth  $182,000.  In  1835,  the  trustees  of  the  Unita- 
rian church  purchased  a  lot  at  the  corner  of  Fourth  and  Pine  streets, 
127  feet  deep,  and  60  feet  front  on  Fourth  street,  for  $2,000,  or  $33.33 
per  front  foot.  Two  years  ago  it  was  sold  for  $24,000,  or  $400  per  front 
foot,  and  in  1853  it  was  supposed  to  be  worth  $000  per  front  foot.  In 
1844,  a  meadow  belonging  to  Judge  Carr  was  laid  off  into  lots,  and  sold 
at  auction,  on  ten  years'  credit,  at  prices  varying  from  $8  to  $18  per  lot. 
"What  was  then  a  meadow  now  contains  a  population  of  not  less  than 
4,000  souls,  and  the  lots  are  valued  at  four  times  their  original  cost. 
Ileal  estate  investments  on  Front  and  Main  streets  vary  from  $700  to 
$800  per  front  foot;  and  on  Second  street,  lots  which  five  years  ago 
could  be  bought  for  $100  or  $150  per  front  foot,  now  sell  for  $500. 

There  has  also  been  a  corresponding  advance  in  real  estate  lying  with- 
out the  city.  Land  which  in  1842—43  sold  at  prices  varying  from  $75  to 
$150  per  acre,  now  brings  from  $1,200  to  $2,000.  In  1847-48,  two 
estates  in  the  south  part  of  the  city  were  disposed  of  in  lots,  the  sales  of 
which  ranged  from  $1.50  to  $4  per  front  foot.  Now  the  same  property 
sells  as  high  as  $40  per  foot.  And  finally,  six  years  ago  land  that  could 
be  purchased  in  the  common,  south  of  the  city,  for  about  $75  per  acre, 
now  commands  $1,000,  and  but  little  is  to  be  obtained  even  at  that 
price.  The  city  of  St.  Louis  owns  600  acres  of  these  lands,  and  has 
claims  upon  as  much  more. 

The  revenue  of  the  city  twenty  years  ago,  as  ascertained  from  the 
assessment  list,  was  $4,765.98.  In  1853  the  assessed  valuation  of 
property,  though  falling  far  below  its  real  value,  was  $39,397,186,  upon 
which  a  tax  of  $413,670  is  collected,  independent  of  $46,000  arising 
from  the  sale  of  licences.  The  assessed  value  of  merchandise  amounted 
to  $8,744,786.64,  an  increase  of  $2,299,606.57  over  1852.  The  highest 
tax  paid  by  any  individual  in  1829  was  $532;  now,  one  gentleman, 
J.  H.  Lucas,  Esq.,  pays  in  his  own  name  a  city  tax  of  $14,000;  nor 
does  this  include  the  whole  of  his  assessment,  as  much  of  his  property  is 
held  conjointly  with  others. 

The  water-works,  which  in  1829  were  of  very  inconsiderable  impor- 
tance, embraced,  in  1853,  above  35  miles  of  pipe.  The  main  reservoir, 
built  in  1849,  is  capable  of  containing  5,000,000  gallons  of  water,  being 
250  feet  square,  and  15  feet  deep.  It  occupies  the  south-west  quarter 
of  an  enclosure  660  feet  on  a  side,  situated  at  the  head  of  Olive  street,  to 
which  water  is  forced  from  the  river  by  stationary  engines,  a  distance 
of  If  miles.  Since  the  above  date,  a  new  reservoir  has  been  con- 
structed, the  water  from  which  is  superior  in  purity  to  that  furnished 
from  the  old  one.  It  has  also  been  contemplated  to  erect  a  water-tower 
on  the  site  of  the  old  reservoir  on  Broadway,  of  sufiicient  capacity  to  be 
a  valuable  adjunct  in  the  event  of  large  fires.     Gras-works  were  put  in 


MISSOURI.  606 

operation  about  8  years  since,  and  their  magnitude  may  bo  inferred  from 
the  fact  that,  in  1853,  33  miles  of  street-pipe  were  laid  throughout 
the  city. 

The  levee,  which  20  years  ago  was  a  mere  mud-bank,  with  transverse 
ways  to  the  water's  edge,  has  since  undergone  very  important  changes. 
Great  expenditures  have  been  made  in  filling  ujd  and  otherwise  im- 
proving it  directly  in  front  of  the  city;  and  at  a  session  of  the  gov- 
ernmental authorities,  in  the  spring  of  1853,  an  appropriation  of 
$200,000  was  made,  one  half  to  be  expended  north  of  Cherry,  and 
the  other  half  south  of  Plum  street.  Extensive  improvements  in 
the  harbor  are  also  being  made.  The  expenditures  for  this  purpose, 
from  April  11  to  October,  1852,  amounted  to  650,256.  A  roadway 
has  recently  been 'constructed  from  the  Illinois  shore  to  and  across 
Blood  Island.  It  is  three  feet  above  high-water  mark,  and  cost  about 
$150,000. 

Manufactures. — The  manufocturcs  of  St.  Louis,  although  in  their 
infancy,  are  hardly  less  important  than  her  commerce.  The  flouring 
business  is  carried  on  here  more  extensively  than  in  any  city  of  the 
west.  The  product  of  the  19  mills  of  the  city  amounted,  in  1851,  to 
408,099  barrels;  in  1852,  to  383,184  barrels;  and  in  1853,  to  457,070 
barrels;  their  daily  capacity  is  estimated  at  3,000  barrels.  At  Belcher's 
sugar-refinery,  which  is  one  of  the  most  extensive  in  the  Union,  the 
yield  for  1853  amounted  to  10,563  boxes,  7,958  hogsheads,  12,457 
barrels,  and  29,848  bags  of  refined  sugar,  besides  103,550  packages  and 
10,567  barrels  refined  from  molasses  and  cane  sirup.  There  are  also 
several  other  sugar-retiners.  The  manufacture  of  diS"erent  kinds  of 
chemicals  and  oils  is  extensively  carried  on.  The  quantity  of  oil  pro- 
duced from  lard  in  1852  was  estimated  at  between  4,000  and  5,000 
barrels,  an  increase  of  1,000  barrels  over  the  previous  year.  In  1853, 
there  were  received  at  the  principal  oil  manufactory  of  the  city  22,931 
bushels  of  flaxseed,  being  an  increase  of  8,880  bushels  over  the  previous 
year.  There  are  in  St.  Louis  10  establishments  for  the  manufacture  of 
tobacco,  several  of  which  are  on  a  large  scale;  these  yielded,  in  1852, 
8,000  packages,  consuming  700  hogsheads  of  raw  material.  The  manu- 
facture of  hemp  into  bale-rope  and  bagging,  and  the  distilling  of  whisky, 
also  employ  a  large  amount  of  capital.  But  however  important  these 
several  interests  may  be  in  themselves,  they  can  hardly  be  regarded  as 
the  most  important  to  St.  Louis.  Indeed,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the  development  of  the  vast  mineral  resources  of  the  region  tributary  to 
her,  is  destined  to  exert  a  controlling  influence  upon  the  future  of  this 
metropolis.  Her  manufactures  of  iron  already  exceed  those  of  any  other 
city  on  the  Mississippi,  if  not  in  the  west.  Numerous  founderies 
annually  turn  out  stoves  and  other  castings  to  a  large  amount.  Hailing, 
machinery,  and  steam-engines  are  extensively  manufactured.  A  large 
establishment  for  the  production  of  locomotives  went  into  operation  in 
1853.  Mining  operations  have  already  been  commenced  at  Iron 
mountain;  from  this  source  Messrs.  Chouteau,  Valli  and  Harrison  obtain 
the  material  for  their  extensive  rolling  mill.  Coopering  and  the  pack- 
ing of  meat  are  likewise  important  branches  of  business;  the  latter, 
39 


606 


MISSOURI. 


for  1852,  comprised  47,000  hogs,  and  about  3,000  barrels  of  beef.  The 
above  statemonts  indicate  only  a  few  of  the  leading  manufactures  of  St. 
Louis.  According  to  the  census  returns  of  1850,  the  number  of  estab- 
lishments in  operation  in  the  city  exceeded  13,000,  comprising  about 
100  different  manufactures,  which  amounted  in  value  to  upwards  of 
§15,000,000.  Since  then,  nearly  every  branch  of  this  species  of  in- 
dustry has  been  greatly  extended — probably  doubled. 

Shipping,  Commerce,  etc. — Each  stream  which  contributes  to  th 
commerce  of  St.  Louis  has  its  regular  packets,  and  for  the  most  part, 
a  separate  place  of  landing.  The  Missouri,  the  Illinois,  and  the  Upper 
Mississippi  have  as  fine  craft  as  float  on  the  Western  waters,  while  the 
down-river,  or  New  Orleans  traders,  are  scarcely  excelled  in  size,  equip- 
ment, speed,  and  construction.  The  St.  Louis  boats  also  visit  the  Ohio, 
the  Wabash,  the  Tennessee,  and  other  streams.  With  such  an  immense 
inland  navigation,  the  commerce  of  the  port  requires  a  large  number  of 
steamers,  and  its  tonnage  in  this  respect  exceeds  that  of  every  other 
Western  city.  The  following  table  exhibits  the  monthly  arrival  of 
steamboats  at  St.  Louis,  from  the  various  rivers  and  places  specified 
in  1852. 


MONTHS. 

a 
1 

1 

5 
o 

a 

i 

C 
C 

3 
o 

iS 

u 

o 

u 

s 

20 
24 
27 
32 
37 
25 
35 
21 
22 
34 
26 
27 

12 
25 
47 
64 
74 
44 
35 
34 
42 
55 
40 
48 

1 
88 
80 
78 
94 
73 
72 
37 
78 
94 
97 
66 

1 

17 
45 

72 
82 
57 
77 
56 
80 
101 
68 
49 

2 
7 
34 
37 
57 
38 
33 
27 
26 
34 
19 
13 

10 
21 
17 

18 
25 

27 
20 
18 
22 
20 
18 
7 

9 
10 

9 

16 
30 
25 
15 
20 
34 
30 
23 
12 

April  .   

July 

Total 

330 

520 

858 

705 

317 

223 

231 

The  aggregate  arrivals  of  steamboats  at  St.  Louis  during  the  year 
1850,  was  2,907;  1851,2,625;  and  1852,8,184:.  The  shipping  owned 
in  the  district,  June  30,  1852,  according  to  the  custom-house  returns, 
amounted  to  an  aggregate  of  37,862  tons  enrolled  and  licensed,  of  which 
32,646  were  employed  in  steam  navigation.  In  1854,  the  shipping 
amounted  to  an  aggregate  of  48,575  tons,  of  which  41,980  were  em- 
ployed in  steam  navigation.  During  the  year,  9  steamboats,  with  an 
aggregate  burden  of  3,079  tons,  were  built. 

The  total  amount  of  coal  received  at  St.  Louis  in  1853,  is  estimated 
at  2,837,818  bushels;  sawn  lumber,  36,412,451  feet;  shingles,  30,402,- 
700;  laths,  6,947,000;  cedar  posts,  22,748;  logs  purchased  at  the  city  mills, 


MISSOURI.  607 

29,636,808  feet;  and  wood  surveyed,  44,280|  cords.  The  total  value  of 
foreign  importations  entered  at  the  custom-bouse  in  1853,  was  $917,275, 
of  which  $487, 750  was  from  England,  and  $124,606  from  Pernambuco 
and  Bahia.     The  duties  collected  amounted  to  $289,260. 

The  importations  of  dry  goods  into  St.  Louis  for  the  year  1852,  were 
estimated  at  $7,000,000,  (an  increase  of  nearly  $1,000,000  over  the  pre- 
vious year,)  and  the  sales  at  $8,500,000.  This,  however,  only  has  refer 
ence  to  the  wholesale  business.  Including  the  retail  trade  of  the  city, 
the  entire  imports  were  estimated  at  $10,500,000,  and  the  sales  at  $13,- 
000,000.  The  business  of  the  heaviest  wholesale  houses  amounts  to  from 
$500,000  to  $800,000  annually. 

The  Bank  of  the  State  of  Missouri  is  the  only  chartered  banking  insti- 
tution in  St.  Louis,  or  in  Missouri.  It  has  five  branches,  viz.,  one  at  Fay- 
ette, one  at  Jackson,  one  at  Lexington,  one  at  Palmyra,  and  one  at 
Springfield.  The  entire  capital  is  $1,200,000,  one-half  of  which  is 
divided  among  the  several  branches.  The  local  discounts  of  the  city 
bank  for  1853,  amounted  to  $5,592,271,  and  the  exchange  purchased 
to  $6,343,433 ;  making  the  total  business  of  the  bank  for  the  year 
$11,935,704.  The  amount  of  exchanges  sold  by  the  bank  of  Missouri 
and  private  bankers  of  the  ity  was  estimated  at  $38,000,000,  besides 
^4,000,000  remitted  by  merchants.  The  whole  number  of  bonds 
outstanding  against  St.  Louis  in  October,  1853,  amounted  to  $2,- 
735,296,  and  the  interest  on  the  same  for  the  year,  to  $165,103,75. 
The  entire  revenue  of  the  city,  from  April  11  to  October  4,  1853, 
amounted  to  $414,252,32,  and  the  expenditures  for  the  same,  period,  to 
$412,914,22.  Of  the  latter  sum,  $44,938,92  was  for  improving  and 
cleaning  the  streets;  $24,475,64  for  wharf  improvements ;  19,611,54, 
the  cost  of  the  police  department;  $17,583,60  for  lighting  the  city; 
$11,879,99  for  the  city  hospital;  and  $7,302,30,  the  expenses  of  tho 
fire  department. 

The  natural  advantages  which  St.  Louis  enjoys  as  a  commercial  em- 
porium are  probably  not  surpassed  by  those  of  any  inland  port  in  the 
world.  Situated  midway  between  two  oceans,  and  near  the  geographical 
center  of  the  finest  agricultural  region  on  the  globe,  almost  at  the  very 
focus  towards  which  converge  the  Mississippi,  the  Missouri,  the  Ohio, 
and  the  Illinois  rivers,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  she  is  destined,  at  no 
distant  period,  to  become  the  great  receiving  and  distributing  depot  of 
most  of  the  vast  region  drained  by  these  streams.  Having  already 
reached  an  enviable  position  among  her  sister  cities,  she  is  looking  west- 
ward, with  a  system  of  railways  intended  not  only  to  bring  to  her  mar- 
kets the  agricultural  and  mineral  treasures  of  the  Missouri  basin,  but 
eventually  to  extend  beyond  the  Rocky  mountains  to  tlie  valley  of  tho 
Great  Salt  lake,  and  finally  to  the  golden  shores  of  the  Pacific  ocean. 
Her  connection  with  the  Atlantic  cities,  through  Cincinnati  and  Chicago, 
is  already  secured  beyond  contingency.  Tho  construction  of  railroads 
penetrating  various  sections  of  her  own  State,  designed  ultimately  to 
communicate  with  New  Orleans,  are  also  about  to  be  undertaken.  Of 
these,  the  Iron  Mountain,  the  North  Missouri,' and  the  Hannibal  and  St. 
Joseph    railroads  are  already  chartered,  and    soon  to  be  commenced. 


608  MISSOURI. 

The  Pacific  railroad  is  now  nearly  completed  to  Jefferson  city,  and  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi  road  is  in  an  advanced  stage  of  constrjjction,  the 
cars  having  long  been  running  to  Salem,  forming  a  connection  with  the 
Illinois  Central  railroad  at  Sandoval,  and  with  the  Chicago  branch  of  it 
at  Centralia.  The  opening  of  these  various  railways,  and  others  pro- 
posed, will  give  St.  Louis  ready  access  to  immense  deposits  of  iron,  coal, 
lead,  and  copper  ores,  within  a  circuit  of  90  miles,  equal  to  tlie  wants  of 
the  whole  Mississippi  valley  for  centuries  to  come,  and  whicli  have  not 
to  this  time  been  brought  into  use,  simply  because  of  the  difficulty  and 
expense  of  reaching  a  market.  Therefore,  with  all  the  commercial  facil- 
ities which  this  metropolis  now  enjoys — facilities  which  have  hitherto 
been  productive  of  prosperity  almost  beyond  example — what  may  she 
not  become  when  the  vast  system  of  railways  here  contemplated  shall 
have  gone  into  operation  ! 

History. — Among  the  many  sites  which  the  vast  domain  of  uninhabi- 
ted territory  in  the  Mississippi  valley  presented  for  founding  a  city,  that 
on  which  St.  Louis  now  stands  was  selected  by  Laclede,  February  15th, 
1764,  as  one  possessing  peculiar  advantages  for  the  fur  trade,  and  for 
defense  against  the  Indians.  The  confluence  of  the  different  rivers  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  was  a  desideratum  in  the  estimation  of  tl\p 
trapper;  it  has  become  of  vast  importance  to  the  place  in  establishing  it 
as  a  center  for  agricultural  and  manufacturing  enterprise.  The  statistics 
of  these  early  times  show  how  that  for  15  successive  years,  ending  in 
1804,  the  average  annual  value  of  the  furs  collected  at  this  port  amounted 
to  §203,750.  The  number  of  the  deer  skins  was  158,000;  of  beaver, 
36,900;  of  otter,  8,000;  of  bear,  5,100,  and  of  buffalo,  850.  The  pop- 
ulation at  this  period  was  between  1,500  and  2,000,  one-half  of  whom 
were  absent  a  great  part  of  each  year  as  trappers  and  voyagers.  It  will 
readily  be  perceived  that  the  elements  which  gave  the  settlement  exis- 
tence were  not  of  a  character  adequate  to  foster  it  beyond  the  limits  of 
a  frontier  village ;  and  accordingly,  as  late  as  1820,  we  find  the  accession 
of  population  had  not  swelled  the  original  very  materially.  Up  to  this 
date  the  census  only  shows  an  advance  to  4,598.  Military  expeditions 
and  establishments,  together  with  a  sparse  immigration,  confined  to  those 
peculiar  temperaments  which  delight  in  the  wild  and  adventurous,  still 
kept  up  a  progressive  improvement,  which,  centering  here  for  personal 
security  as  well  as  for  trade,  still  fixed  it  as  the  seat  of  a  commercial  and 
manufacturing  metropolis,  destined  in  a  few  years  to  become  an  object 
of  interest  throughout  the  world.  On  the  11th  of  August,  1768,  a 
Spanish  officer  by  the  name  of  Rious,  with  a  company  of  Spanish  troops, 
took  possession  of  St.  Louis  and  Upper  Louisiana,  as  it  was  termed,  in 
the  name  of  his  Catholic  majesty,  under  whose  government  it  remained 
until  its  final  transfer  to  the  United  States,  March  26,  1804.  In  1813, 
the  first  brick  house  was  erected;  in  1817,  the  first  steamboat  arrived — 
both  important  events,  but  neither  of  which  became  frequent  until 
several  years  after.  In  1822,  St.  Louis  was  chartered  as  a  city,  under 
the  title  given  by  Laclede,  in  honor  of  Louis  XV.  of  France.  From 
1825  to  1830,  the  influx  of  population  from  Illinois  began  to  be  of  im- 
portance.    From  this  State  the  commerce  of  St.  Louis  received  its  first 


MISSOURI.  609 

great  impulse,  and  from  this  State  it  still  derives  a  large  portion  of  its 
support.  With  1829  the  keel-boat  entirely  disappeared.  The  steamer 
Yellowstone  about  this  time  ascended  to  the  Great  Falls,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  the  Assinaboine  and  others.  Dry-goods  houses  were  already 
established,  and  these  sent  out  retail  branches  to  Springfield,  and  other 
places  in  Illinois.  Extensive  warehouses  began  to  be  erected,  some  of 
which  are  still  standing,  having  survived  the  great  fire.  They  rose 
from  their  solid  limestone  foundations,  built  on  a  scale  which  shows  that 
the  impressions  of  the  present  were  vividly  portrayed  to  the  minds  of 
the  people  of  that  day. 

The  population  of  St.  Louis  in  1830  was  G,694,  showing  an  increase 
of  only  2,096  in  ten  years.  In  1840  it  had  much  more  than  doubled, 
having  reached  16,469.  Between  these  periods,  therefore,  we  are  to  look 
for  the  commencement  of  that  vast  increase  which  has  so  distinguished 
the  growth  of  this  city.  Population  in  1850,  75,204  free,  and  2,650 
slaves;  total,  77,850.  Of  these,  23,774  were  born  in  Germany;  11,257 
in  Ireland;  2,933  in  England ;  and  2,450  in  other  foreign  countries: 
making  an  aggregate  of  40,414  natives  of  foreign  countries,  and  37,- 
436  natives  of  the  United  States.  By  a  local  census  of  1852,  St.  Louis 
contained  a  population  of  94,819;  and  if  to  this  we  add  the  population 
of  the  suburbs,  it  would  swell  the  number  to  upwards  of  100,000  souls; 
being  an  increase  of  about  20,000  since  1850,  and  nearly  84,000  since 
1840. 

Hannibal,  a  flourishing  town  of  Marion  county,  on  the  Mississippi 
river,  is  153  miles  above  St.  Louis,  and  15  miles  below  Quiucy,  Illinois. 
It  is  advantageously  situated  for  commerce,  and  is  rapidly  increasing  in 
population  and  business.  Large  quantities  of  hemp,  tobacco,  pork,  etc., 
which  are  raised  in  the  vicinity,  are  shipped  at  this  point.  The  adjacent 
county  is  very  productive,  and  rather  populous.  Coal  and  carboniferous 
limestone,  an  excellent  material  for  building,  are  abundant  here.  A 
railroad  has  been  commenced,  which  will  extend  from  Hannibal  to  St. 
Joseph,  on  the  Missouri,  a  distance  of  above  200  miles.  The  town  con- 
tains churches  of  8  or  9  deaominations,  printing  offices,  from  which  are 
issued  several  newspapers,  about  25  stores  and  warehouses,  and  several 
extensive  tobacco  factories,  flouring  mills,  packing  and  other  establish- 
ments. Population  in  1840  was  about  600;  in  1850  it  amounted  to 
2,557;  in  1854,  to  4,000. 

Lexington,  a  thriving  post-village  and  township,  capital  of  Lafayette 
county,  on  the  right  bank  of  Missouri  river,  120  miles  by  the  road  west 
of  Jeff'erson  city.  The  situation  is  high  and  healthy.  Lexington  has 
an  active  trade  with  the  caravans  of  Santa  Fe  and  the  Great  Salt  lake. 
The  great  emigration  to  California  which  has  passed  through  the  county 
for  several  years  past,  has  furnished  a  market  for  grain,  cattle,  and  horses 
at  very  high  prices.  P^xtensive  beds  of  coal  are  found  on  the  river  bank 
here.  Lexington  contains,  besides  the  county  buildings,  a  United  States 
land-office,  2  newspaper  offices,  about  7  clmrches,  and  1  bank.  Popula- 
tion of  the  township  in  1850,4,878;  of  the  village,  2,459;  in  1853, 
estimated  at  4,000. 

Saint    Josepu,  capital  of  Buchanan  county,  is  situated  on  the  lefk 


610  MISSOURI. 

(cast)  bank  of  the  Missouri  river,  340  miles  above  Jcffersou  city,  and 
40G  miles  by  water  from  kSaiut  Louis.  It  is  the  most  commercial  and 
populoas  town  of  Western  Missouri,  and  one  of  the  points  of  departure 
in  the  emigration  to  Oregon,  California,  etc.  Saint  Joseph  is  surrounded 
by  au  extremely  fertile  region,  in  which  wheat,  tobacco,  and  hemp  are 
cultivated.  A  company  has  been  formed  to  construct  a  railroad,  about 
200  miles  long,  from  this  town  to  Hannibal,  on  the  Mississippi.  The 
town  was  laid  out  in  1843,  and  became  the  county  scat  in  1845.  It  con- 
tains 7  churches,  several  steam  flouring  and  saw  mills,  and  manufactories 
of  bagcing,  etc.;  2  or  3  newspapers  are  published*herc.  PopulatioHa  in 
1853,  about  5,000. 

Weston,  a  flourishing  city  and  river-port  of  Platte  county,  picturesquely 
situated  on  the  Missouri  river,  200  miles  by  the  road  west-north-west 
of  Jeflerson  city,  and  5  miles  above  Fort  Leavenworth.  It  is  the  most 
commercial  town  on  the  Missouri  river,  or  in  the  State,  with  the  single 
exception  of  Saint  Louis.  Its  frontier  position  renders  it  a  favorable 
starting-point  for  the  emigrants  to  California,  etc.;  and  the  vast  extent  of 
this  emigration,  for  a  few  years  past,  has  opened  a  ready  market  for  cat- 
tle, provisions,  etc.,  at  excessively  high  prices.  A  constant  and  heavy 
trade  is  carried  on  with  Salt  Lake  city  and  valley.  It  also  furnishes 
the  private  and  governmental  supplies  to  Fort  Leavenworth.  A  railroad 
has  been  chartered,  extending  from  Weston  to  the  Hannibal  and  Saint 
Joseph  railroad;  and  another  from  Saint  Joseph,  via  Weston  and  Park- 
ville,  to  Kansas,  on  the  south  side  of  the  Missouri  river.  A  company 
has  also  been  formed  to  construct  a  railroad  connecting  Weston  with 
Saint  Louis.  Several  newspapers  are  published  here.  First  settled  in 
1838.     Population  in  1855,  about  3,000. 

Independence,  a  thriving  town, capital  of  Jackson  county,  is  situated  5 
miles  south  of  Missouri  river,  and  165  miles  west  by  north  of  Jefi'erson 
city.  It  is  important  as  one  of  the  starting  points  in  the  trade  with 
New  Mexico  and  Utah,  and  a  place  where  many  of  the  emigrants  to 
Oregon  and  California  procure  their  outfit.  It  is  the  center  of  trade  for 
a  considerable  extent  of  the  surrounding  country,  which  is  extremely 
fertile.  The  prodigious  tide  of  emigration  which  has  passed  through 
this  place  for  the  last  4  or  5  years,  has  created  a  demand  f  )r  horses,  pro- 
visions, and  merchandise,  at  prices  which  have  enriched  the  farmers  and 
traders  of  this  vicinity.  It  contains  several  churches,  3  hotels,  and  2 
newspaper  ofiices.  A  railroad  extends  from  the  town  to  the  river. 
Population  in  1854,  estimated  at  3,000. 

I  Jefferson  City,  capital  of  the  State  and  seat  of  justice  of  Cole  county, 
lies  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Missouri  river,  and  on  the  Pacific  railroad, 
128  miles  by  land,  and  155  miles  by  water  west  of  Saint  Louis,  and  980 
miles  from  Washington.  Latitude  38°  36'  north,  longitude  92°  8' west. 
The  situation  is  elevated  and  picturesque,  commanding  a  fine  view  of  the 
river  and  of  the  cedar-crowned  cliflFs  on  the  opposite  shore.  It  contains 
the  State  house,  the  governor's  residence,  a  handsome  building,  and  the 
State  penitentiary.  Two  or  three  newspapers  are  published  here.  Pop- 
ulation in  1853,  estimated  at  3,000. 

Saint  Charles  is  athriving  post-town,  capital  of  St.  Charles  county,  on 


ARKANSAS.  611 

the  left  bank  of  Missouri  river,  22  miles  from  its  mouth,  144  miles  be- 
low Jetferson  City,  and  6  miles  by  land  south  of  the  Mississippi  rivei". 
Tlie  situation  is  elevated  and  beautiful.  The  rocky  bluffs  in  this  vicin- 
present  delightful  views  of  the  adjacent  rivers.  Quarries  of  limestone 
and  sandstone,  and  mines  of  stone-coal  have  been  opened  near  the  town. 
It  contains  several  churches,  and  1  newspaper  office.  Population  in 
1853,  estimated  at  3,000. 


STATE    OF   ARKANSAS. 


This  State,  having  for  the  most  part  the  soil  and  products  of  the 
south,  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Missouri,  east  by  the  Mississippi 
river,  (which  separates  it  from  the  States  of  Tennessee  and  Mississippi,) 
south  by  Louisiana  and  Texas,  and  west  by  Texas  and  Indian  Teriitory. 
It  lies  between  33°  and  36°  30^  north  latitude,  and  between  89°  45'  and 
94°  40'  west  longitude ;  being  about  240  miles  in  length  from  north  to 
south,  and  224  in  breadth  from  east  to  west ;  and  including  an  area  of 
near  52,198  square  miles,  or  33,406,720  acres,  only  781,531  of  which 
were  improved  in  1850. 

Face  of  the  Country. — The  eastern  part  of  Arkansas,  for  about  100 
miles  back  from  the  Mississippi,  is  generally  a  vast  plain  covered  with 
marshes,  swamps,  and  lagoons,  but  occasionally  interspersed  with  eleva- 
tions, (some  of  which  are  30  miles  or  more  in  circuit,)  which,  when  the 
rivers  are  overflowed,  form  temporary  islands.  A  plank -road  is  about  to 
be  made  through  a  part  of  this  region.  A  bill  having  recently  been 
passed  by  Congress,  giving  to  the  southern  and  western  States  all  the 
overflowed  swamp-lands  within  their  respective  limits,  the  State  of  Ar- 
kansas is  now  constructing,  along  the  whole  eastern  boundary,  levees  of 
great  strength,  by  means  of  which  extensive  tracts,  that  have  hitherto 
been  entirely  worthless,  will  be  converted  into  cultivatable  land  of  extraor- 
dinary fertility.  The  Ozark  mountains,  which  enter  the  north-west  part 
of  the  State,  are  of  uncertain  hight ;  they  do  not,  however,  exceed  2,000 
feet,  and  are  generally  much  below  that  elevation.  These  mountains 
divide  the  State  into  two  unequal  parts,  of  which  the  northern  has  the 
climate  and  production  of  the  northern  States,  while  the  southern  portion, 
in  the  character  of  its  climate  and  productions,  resembles  Mississippi  or 
Louisiana.  The  Black  hills  in  the  north,  and  the  Washita  hills  in  the 
west,  near  the  Washita  river,  are  the  only  other  considerable  elevations. 
The  central  parts  of  the  State,  as  well  as  the  regions  north  of  the  Ozark 
mountains,  are  broken  and  undulating. 


612  ARKANSAS. 

Minerals. — Arkansas  gives  indications  of  considerable  affluence  in 
mineral  resources,  wliicli  are  principally  coal,  iron,  lead,  zinc,  manga- 
nese, gypsum,  and  salt.  The  coal  field  of  Arkansas  commences  40  miles 
above  Little  Kock,  and  extends  on  both  sides  of  the  river  beyond  the 
western  boundary  of  the  State.  Caunel,  anthracite,  and  bituminous  coal 
are  all  found  in  the  State.  Gold  is  said  to  have  been  discovered  in  White 
county.  Near  the  Hot  Springs  is  a  celebrated  quarry  of  oil  stone,  supe- 
rior to  anything  else  of  the  kind  in  the  known  world  :  the  quantity  is 
inexhaustible;  there  are  groat  varieties,  exhibiting  all  degrees  of  fineness. 
According  to  a  writer  in  De  Bow's  "Resources  of  the  south  and  west," 
there  is  manganese  enough  in  Arkansas  to  supply  the  world ;  in  zinc  it 
excels  every  State  except  New  Jersey;  and  has  more  gypsum  than  all 
the  other  States  put  together,  while  it  is  equally  well  supplied  with 
marble  and  salt.  The  lead  ore  of  this  State  is  said  to  be  particularly  rich 
in  silver. 

EiYERS,  Lakes,  etc. — Arkansas  has  no  sea-board,  but  the  Missis- 
sippi river  (which  receives  all  the  waters  of  this  State,)  coasts  the  almost 
entire  eastern  boundary,  and  renders  it  accessible  to  the  sea  from  many 
points.  Probably  no  State  in  the  Union  is  penetrated  by  so  many  navi- 
gable rivers  as  Arkansas:  owing,  however,  to  the  long-continued  droughts 
which  prevail  in  the  hot  season,  none  of  these  streams  can  be  ascended 
by  vessels  of  any  size  more  than  about  nine  months  in  the  year.  The 
Arkansas  is  the  principal  river  that  passes  wholly  through  the  State.  It 
enters  the  western  border  from  the  Indian  Territory,  and  sweeping  almost 
directly  through  the  middle  of  the  State  for  about  500  miles,  (the  whole 
distance  navigable  for  steamboats,)  after  receiving  a  number  of  small 
tributaries,  discharges  its  waters  into  the  Mississippi.  The  White  river 
and  the  St.  Francis,  with  their  afl3uents,  drain  the  north-east  part  of 
Arkansas.  They  have  their  sources  in  Missouri,  and  their  outlet  in  the 
Mississippi  river.  The  White  river,  which  debouches  by  one  channel 
into  the  Arkansas,  and  into  the  Mississippi  by  the  other,  is  navigable  for 
steamboats  500  miles,  the  Big  Black  river  for  60,  and  the  St.  Francis 
for  300  miles.  The  Bed  river  runs  through  the  south-west  angle  of  the 
State,  and  receives  some  small  tributaries  within  its  limits.  It  is  navi- 
gable for  steamboats  beyond  Arkansas.  The  Washita  and  its  numerous 
affluents  drain  the  southern  part  of  the  State.  The  main  stream  is  navi- 
gable for  375  miles,  and  its  tributary,  the  Saline,  for  100  miles.  The 
bayous  Bartholomew,  Boeuf,  Macon,  and  Tensas,  are  all  tributaries  of  the 
Washita,  and  have  an  aggregate  of  635  miles  of  navigable  water.  They 
all  arise  in  the  south  part  of  Arkansas,  and  flow  into  Louisiana,  where 
they  join  the  Red  river.  The  Little  Missouri  and  bayou  D'Arbonne  are 
western  branches  of  the  Arkansas,  the  former  navigable  60,  and  the 
latter  50  miles,  for  light  steamboats.  There  are  no  considerable  lakes  in 
Arkansas. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — LTnder  this  head  stands  promi- 
nent the  Hot  Springs,  situated  in  a  county  of  the  same  name,  about  60 
miles  south-west  of  Little  Rock.  From  a  point  or  ridge  of  land  forming 
a  steep  bank  from  150  to  200  feet  high,  projecting  over  Hot  Spring 
creek,  an  affluent  of  the  Washita,  more  than  100  springs  issue,  at  differ- 


ARKANSAS.  613 

ent  elevations  and  of  different  temperatures,  from  135°  to  160°  of  Fah- 
renheit. A  considerable  portion  of  this  bank  consists  of  calcareous 
deposits,  formed  from  the  water  as  it  is  exposed  to  the  air.  These 
springs  are  visited  annually  by  thousands  of  people.  The  waters  are 
esteemed  particularly  beneficial  to  persons  suffering  from  the  chronic 
effects  of  mercury:  also  in  rheumatism,  stiffness  of  the  joints,  etc.,  etc. 
Near  the  top  of  the  bank  above  alluded  to,  there  is  a  fine  cold  spring,  so 
near  to  the  warm  springs  that  a  person  can  put  one  hand  into  cold,  and 
the  other  into  hot  water  at  the  same  time.  The  creek  below  the  springs 
is  rendered  warm  enough  to  bathe  in,  even  in  the  coldest  season.  The 
mountains  on  the  western  border  of  the  State  abound  with  picturesque 
and  romantic  scenery.  There  is  in  Pike  county,  on  the  ]jittle  Missouri 
river,  a  mountain  of  alabaster,  said  to  be  of  the  finest  quality,  and  white 
as  the  driven  snow.  In  the  same  county  also  there  is  a  natural  bridge, 
which  is  regarded  as  a  great  curiosity. 

Climate. — The  climate  of  the  northern  and  western  parts  of  Arkan- 
sas is  allied  to  that  of  the  north-western  States,  while  the  southern  and 
eastern  portion  partakes  of  that  of  Louisiana.  The  lowlands  are  un- 
healthy, but  the  uplands  will  compare  favorably  with,  the  most  healthful 
regions  of  the  western  States.  According  to  a  meteorological  table  kept 
in  Pulaski  county,  near  Little  Rock,  the  mean  temperature  of  the  year, 
from  the  IGth  of  December,  1850,  until  the  15th  of  December,  1851, 
inclusive,  was  62°. 60.  Mean  temperature  of  the  months  of  December, 
January,  and  February,  for  the  years  1849  and  1850,  45°. 82.  Mean 
temperature  for  the  corresponding  months  for  the  years  1850  and  1851, 
44°. 52.  Mean  temperature  for  the  months  of  June,  July,  and  August 
for  the  year  1850,  79°. 66.  Mean  temperature  for  the  corresponding 
months  for  the  year  1851,  80°. 26.  There  were  47  days  during  the  sum- 
mer of  1850,  when  the  mercury  rose  to  90°  and  upward ;  51  days  during 
the  summer  of  1851  when  the  mercury  rose  to  90°  and  upwards.  The 
greatest  elevation  of  the  mercury  in  1850,  was  the  24th  of  August,  when 
it  rose  to  99°.  The  greatest  elevation  for  1851  was  the  16th  of  August, 
when  it  rose  to  99J°.  The  lowest  depression  of  the  mercury  during  the 
year  1850  was  8°,  on  the  8th  of  December.  The  lowest  depression  dur- 
ing the  year  1851  was  12°,  on  the  19th  of  January.  From  the  1st  of 
March,  1850,  until  the  80th  of  November,  1851,  inclusive,  there  fell  in 
rain  and  snow  79.66  inches  of  water,  makiug  an  average  of  about  3.79 
inches  per  month,  and  45.52  inches  in  12  months.  The  greatest  amount 
during  one  month  was  in  April,  1850,  when  there  fell  7.93  inches  of 
water;  the  least  that  fell  in  any  one- month  was  in  September,  1851, 
when  there  fell  .02  of  an  inch. 

Soil  and  Productions. — There  is  a  great  variety  in  the  soil  of  Ar- 
kansas ;  along  the  river  intervals  it  is  of  the  richest  black  mould,  (yield- 
ing from  50  to  80  bushels  of  Indian  corn  to  the  acre,)  but  much  of  it 
unfit  for  cultivation  for  want  of  a  system  of  drainage.  On  the  White 
and  St.  Francis  rivers  there  is  some  land  of  especial  excellence;  while 
in  the  country  back  from  the  rivers  there  are  some  sterile  ridges.  Grand 
prairie,  between  White  and  Arkansas  rivers,  about  90  miles  long  and  30 
broad,  is  badly  supplied  with  water,  but  most  of  the  other  prairie  lands 


614  ARKANSAS. 

arc  •well  watered.  The  region  north  of  the  Ozark  mountains,  including 
about  two  tiers  of  counties,  is  well  adajitod  to  grazing;  it  produces  also 
abundance  of  excellent  wheat,  and,  perhaps,  the  finest  apples  in  the 
world.  This  section  of  the  country  is  eh  vated,  hilly,  or  rolling,  inter- 
spersed with  prairies,  and  abounds  with  fine  springs  of  excellent  water. 
Grain  and  stock  are  the  staples.  The  tops  of  the  hills  and  mountains 
are  ofteu  flat  or  rolling,  and  covered  with  a  good  soil  and  a  heavy  growth 
of  timber.  The  staple  products  of  Arkansas  are  Indian  corn,  cotton,  and 
live  stock,  and  considerable  quantities  of  wheat,  oats,  tobacco,  wool,  peas, 
beans,  sweet  potatoes,  Irish  potatoes,  fruits,  garden  vegetables,  butter, 
hay,  rice,  beeswax,  and  honey,  with  some  rye,  barley,  buckwheat,  wine, 
cheese,  grass-seeds,  hops,  hemp,  flax,  silk,  and  maple  sugar.  There  were 
in  Arkansas,  in  1850,  17,758  farms,  occupying  781,531  acres  of  improved 
land,  and  producing  live  stock  worth  S6, 6-17,969 ;  199,639  bushels  of 
wheat;  8,893,939  of  Indian  corn;  656,183  of  oats;  285,738  of  peas  and 
beans;  193,832  of  Irish  potatoes;  788,149  of  sweet  potatoes;  63,179 
pounds  of  rice;  218,936  of  tobacco;  25,137,600  of  cotton;  182,595  of 
wool;  1,854,239  of  butter;  3,977  tons  of  hay;  192,338  pounds  of  bees- 
wax and  honey ;  orchard  products  valued  at  $40,041  .  and  market  vege- 
tables at  817,150. 

Forest  Trees. — In  Arkansas  the  bottom  lands  are  generally  covered 
with  a  heavy  growth  of  Cottonwood,  ash,  cypress  and  gum.  The  moun- 
tains or  hilly  portions  have  hickory  and  the  diiferent  kinds  of  oak.  Pine 
is  found  in  considerable  abundance  on  the  Arkansas  river,  near  the  center 
of  the  State,  and  from  this  southward  to  Eed  river.  Beech  is  found  in 
great  abundance  on  the  St.  Francis  river.  Immense  quantities  of  these 
difi"erent  kinds  of  timber  are  sent  down  the  Mississippi  river  to  New 
Orleans.  From  the  letter  of  a  highly  intelligent  correspondent  we  extract 
the  following  passage  :  "  The  principal  forest  trees  are  the  oak,  (white,) 
found  in  remarkable  abundance  and  of  good  quality  :  the  other  oaks  are 
also  abundant  and  very  fine.  White  oak.s,  5  feet  in  diameter  and  60  or 
80  feet  without  a  limb,  are  common.  Hickory,  ash,  black  walnut,  gum, 
cherry,  pine,  red  cedar,  dogwood,  cypress,  maple,  beech,  cottonwood, 
poplar,  sugar-maple  in  the  northern  parts ;  bois  d'arc,  (pronounced 
bo-dark,)  sassafras,  and  black  locust;  all  these  are  found  in  abundance, 
and  are  very  valuable.  The  pecan  is  included  in  hickory,  and  is  also  very 
abundant." 

Animals. — Arkansas  is  still  the  home  of  many  wild  animals,  and  the 
bear,  buffalo,  (a  few  of  which  are  still  found  in  the  Mississippi  swamp  in 
Crittenden  county,)  deer,  wolf,  catamount,  wildcat,  beaver,  otter,  raccoon, 
and  gopher  yet  infest  its  forests,  prairies,  and  savannas.  The  gopher  is 
a  little  animal  found  chiefly,  it  is  said,  west  of  the  Mississippi.  It  is 
rather  larger  than  a  rat,  and  has  pouches  on  each  side  of  its  head  and 
neck,  in  which  it  carries  out  the  dirt  it  makes  while  excavating  its  bur- 
row. It  is  very  destructive  to  trees  by  gnawing  their  roots.  Of  birds 
there  are  found  wild  geese,  turkeys,  and  quails.  The  streams  abound  in 
fish,  particularly  trout. 

Manufactures. — This  State  is  not  extensively  engaged  in  manufac- 
tures.    According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were  only  271  manufac- 


ARKANSAS.  615 

tories,  producing  each  $500  and  upwards,  annually.  Of  these,  3  were 
engaged  in  the  manufacture  of  cotton,  employing  $16,500  capital,  and  13 
male  and  18  female  bauds,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $8,975,  and 
producing  81,250  pounds  of  yarn,  valued  at  $16,637  ;  but  no  wooden  or 
iron  manufactories  or  distilleries  reported.  There  were  also  fabricated 
in  1850  home  made  manufactures  valued  at  $6-46,938,  and  51  tanneries, 
employing  42,100  capital,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $35,230,  and 
producing  leather  valued  at  $78,734. 

Internal  Improvements. — Arkansas  is  so  well  supplied  with  river 
navigation,  that  she  will  scarcely  feel  the  want  of  other  means  of  com- 
munication till  her  back  country  is  more  settled.  However,  she  too  has 
been  seized  with  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  though  no  railroads  have  actu- 
ally been  commenced,  several  have  been  projected,  viz.,  one  from  Little  (.•§ 
Rock  to  Memphis,  one  to  Fulton,  and  one  to  Fort  Smith.  A  railroad  is 
also  proposed  from  St.  Louis,  through  Arkansas,  to  New  Orleans. 

Commerce. — This  State  has  no  foreign  commerce,  though  it  has  con- 
siderable boating  trade  with  New  Orleans,  engaged  in  the  export  of  its 
productions.  The  rivers  of  x\rkansas  afford  an  interior  navigation  of 
more  than  1,000  miles,  bringing  a  large  portion  of  the  State  within  the 
reach  of  navigable  waters.  It  is  stated  that  the  White  river  is  more 
easily  navigated  than  the  Ohio  ',  in  addition  to  this,  the  Arkansas  is 
navigable  the  entire  breadth  of  the  State,  the  St.  Francis  for  300,  and " 
the  Big  Black  river  for  100  miles.  The  southern  and  south-western 
portions  of  the  State  may  be  approached  by  steamboats  through  the  Red 
river,  the  AYashita,  and  their  branches.  Lumber,  cotton,  slaughtered 
animals,  and  Indian  corn  are  the  great  articles  of  export. 

Education. — According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were  in  Arkan- 
sas 3  colleges,  with  150  students,  and  an  income  of  $3,100 ;  353  public 
schools,  with  8,493  pupils,  and  $43,763  income,  of  which  $8,959  were 
from  the  public  funds,  and  $1,720  from  endowments;  90  acadamies  and 
other  schools,  with  2,407  pupils,  and  27,937  income.  There  were  23,361 
pupils  attending  school  during  the  year,  as  returned  by  families.  Of 
16,935  adults  who  could  not  read  and  write,  116  were  free  colored  per- 
sons and  27  foreigners. 

Periodicals. — By  the  census  of  1850,  9  weekly  newspapers,  with  aa 
aggregate  circulation  of  377,000  copies  per  annum,  were  published  ia 
Arkansas. 

Religious  Denominations. — Of  the  362  churches  in  Arkansas,  the 
different  sects  of  Baptists  owned  114;  the  Episcopalians,  2;  the  Free 
Church,  1 ;  the  Methodists,  168  ;  the  Presbyterians,  52 ;  the  Roman 
Catholics,  7 ;  the  Union  church,  5 ;  and  minor  sects,  13. 

Public  Institutions. — As  yet  Arkansas  has  no  institutions  for  the 
insane,  or  for  the  deaf  and  dumb,  or  blind.  There  is  at  Little  Rook  one 
State  penitentiary,  which  has  been  once  or  twice  burned  down  by  the 
convicts.  According  to  the  census  of  1850,  Arkansas  had  one  public 
library,  with  250  volumes,  and  two  Sunday-school  libraries,  with  170 
volumes. 

Government,  Finances,  etc. — The  governor  is  elected  by  the  people 
for  4  years,  and  receives  a  salary  of  $1,800  per  annum,  and  the  use  of  a 


01 G  ARKANSAS. 

house.  The  senate  consists  of  25  members,  elected  for  5  years;  and  the 
bonse  of  representatives  of  15  members,  elected  for  2  years,  both  by  the 
people.  The  members  of  both  these  bodies  receive  $3  per  diem  during 
the  session,  and  $3  for  every  20  miles  travel.  The  judiciary  consists, 
1st,  of  a  Supreme  court,  composed  of  a  chief  justice  and  two  associates, 
elected  by  the  Lep:islature  for  8  years,  and  rcceivinj^  a  salary  of  $1,800 
per  annum  ;  and  2d,  of  six  circuit  courts,  held  twice  a  year  in  each 
circuit.  The  circuit  judges  are  elected  by  the  people  for  4  years,  and 
the  prosecuting  attorney  for  2  years.  The  circuit  judg-es  receive  $1,250 
per  annum.  Arkansas  sends  two  members  to  the  national  house  of 
representatives,  and  is  entitled  to  four  electoral  votes  for  president  of 
the  United  States.  The  State  debt  in  1852  was  $1,506,562;  school 
fund,  none  ;  annual  expenditure,  inclusive  of  debt  and  schools,  $35,000. 
The  assessed  value  of  real  and  personal  property  in  1850  was  $36,428,- 
615. 

Population.— Arkansas  had,  in  1820,  14,213  inhabitants  ;  30,388  in 
1830;  91,514  in  1840  ;  209,811  in  1850;  of  whom  85,814  were  white 
males,  16,315  white  females ;  314  free  colored  males,  294  free  colored 
females,  and  23,658  male,  and  23,442  female  slaves  ;  in  1854,  253,111, 
of  whom  199,224  were  white,  and  60,219  slaves,  and  614  free  colored. 
There  were  also  in  1850,  28,416  families,  occupying  28,252  dwellings. 
Representative  population,  190,846;  population  to  the  square  mile,  4.02. 
There  occurred  in  the  year  ending  June  1st,  1850,  3,021  deaths,  or  nearly 
15  in  every  1,000  persons.  Of  the  free  population  at  the  last  census, 
61,289  were  born  in  the  State;  99,241  in  other  States  of  the  Union; 
1,411  in  foreign  countries  ;  and  190  whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown. 
The  number  of  paupers  who  received  aid  in  the  year  ending  June  1st, 
1850,  was  105,  of  whom  8  were  foreigners  ;  of  84  deaf  and  dumb,  4  were 
slaves  ;  of  92  blind,  2  were  free  colored  and  13  slaves  ;  of  63  insane,  3 
were  slaves ;  of  115  idiotic,  2  were  free  colored,  and  10  slaves.  Of  the 
population,  41  were  engaged  in  mining;  26,355  in  agriculture;  215  in 
commerce;  1,113  in  manufactures;  3  in  navigating  the  ocean;  39  in 
internal  navigation,  and  301  in  the  learned  professions. 

Counties. — There  are  in  Arkansas  54  counties,  viz.  :  Arkansas, 
Ashley,  Benton,  Bradley,  Carroll,  Chicot,  Clark,  Conway,  Crawford, 
Crittenden,  Dallas,  Desha,  Drew,  Franklin,  Fulton,  Greene,  Hempstead, 
Hot  Spring,  Independence,  Izard,  Jackson,  Jeft'erson,  Johnson,  Lafay- 
ette, Lawrence,  Madison,  Marion,  Mississippi,  Monroe,  Montgomery, 
Newton,  Perry,  Phillips,  Pike,  Poinsett,  Polk,  Pope,  Prairie,  Pulaski, 
Randolph,  St.  Francis,  Saline,  Scott,  Searcy,  Sevier,  Union,  Van  Buren, 
Washington,  Washita,  White,  and  Yell.  The  three  following  have 
been  formed  since  1850  :   Calhoun,  Columbia,  and  Sel^astian. 

Towns. — There  are  but  few  large  towns  in  Arkansas.  The  principal 
are  Little  Rock,  the  capital  of  the  State,  with  a  population,  in  1853,  of 
3,000  ;  Yan  Buren,  the  most  commercial  town  in  the  State,  with  a  pop- 
ulation of  1,500;  Fort  Smith,  population,  1,500;  Camden,  population, 
1,400  ;  Batesville,  population,  about  1,100. 

History. — Arkansas  was  settled  by  the  French  at  Arkansas  Post  as 
early  as  1685,  and  formed  a   part   of  the   great  tract  purchased  from 


ARKANSAS.  617 

France  in  1803,  under  the  name  of  Louisiana.  It  made  little  progress 
until  after  its  formation  into  a  Territory  of  the  United  States  in  1819.  It 
became  a  member  of  the  American  Union  in  1836. 

Little  Rock,  capital  of  Arkansas,  and  seat  of  justice  of  Pulaski 
county,  on  the  right  or  southern  bank  of  Arkansas  river,  about  300 
miles  from  its  mouth,  1.55  miles  west  by  south  of  Memphis,  1,065  miles 
west  by  south  of  Washington.  Latitude,  3-4°  40'  north,  longitude,  83° 
10'  west.  It  is  situated  on  a  rocky  promontary,  or  bluif,  about  50  feet 
high,  the  first  that  occurs  in  ascending  the  river,  commanding  a  delight- 
ful and  extensive  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  The  State  house 
is  a  fine  brick  edifice,  rough  cast.  The  town  contains  a  United  States 
arsenal,  the  State  penitentiary,  which  has  been  once  or  twice  burned 
down  by  the  convicts,  and  6  churches,  all  handsomely  built  of  brick, 
namely,  1  Presbyterian,  1  Episcopalian,  1  Methodist,  1  Christian,  and  2 
Roman  Catholic.  There  are  2  newspapers  published  here.  It  has  also 
a  Masonic  hall,  an  Odd  Fellows'  hall,  and  several  seminaries.  The 
United  States  court  for  the  Eastern  District  is  held  here.  Many  of  the 
residents  are  planters  who  own  estates  in  this  part  of  the  State.  Little 
Rock  communicates  regularly  by  steamboats  with  different  points  on  the 
Arkansas  and  Mississippi  rivers.  Good  clay  for  brick  is  found  in  the 
vicinity ;  also  quarries  of  fine  slate,  and  granite  very  like  the  Quincy 
granite,  but  not  so  hard.  A  company  has  been  formed  by  a  number  of 
gentlemen  from  Cincinnati  to  work  the  slate  quarry,  which  is  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity.  The  origin  of  the  name  Little  Rock  is  explained  as 
follows : — In  ascending  the  river  there  appears  on  the  south  bank,  rising 
out  of  the  water,  a  bald,  igneous  slate  rock,  which  at  low  water  is  about 
25  feet  above  the  surface,  but  at  high  water  is  almost  hidden  from  view. 
This  gives  name  to  the  city,  and  is  called  by  the  townpeople  "  the  point 
of  rocks."  Two  miles  above  this,  on  the  north  bank,  is  another  rocky 
bluff,  about  200  feet  high,  which  is  called  the  "big  rock."  Population 
in  1850,  2,167;  in  1853,  about  3,000. 

Van  Buren,  a  flourishing  post-village  and  township,  capital  of  Craw- 
ford county,  lies  IGO  miles  west-north-west  of  Little  Rock,  and  5  miles 
east  of  the  Indian  Territory.  The  village  is  finely  situated  on  the  left 
(north)  bank  of  Arkansas  river.  It  is  one  of  the  most  commercial  places 
in  the  whole  State — the  annual  sales  amounting  to  more  than  a  million 
dollars.  An  extensive  jobbing  business  is  done  here  in  supplj'ing  the 
smaller  places  of  the  surrounding  country.  It  has  a  cotton  factory  in 
successful  operation,  with  an  engine  of  G5  horse-power,  and  a  steam  flour- 
ing-mill  making  50  barrels  per  day  of  the  finest  flour.  The  village  con- 
tains 4  churches,  including  1  Methodist  and  1  Presbyterian,  both  fine 
brick  edifices.  Two  newspapers  are  published  here.  Stone-coal  is  found 
in  the  vicinity.     Laid  out  about  1841.     Population  in  1853,  about  1, GOO. 

Camden,  a  handsome  post-village,  capital  of  Washita  county,  lies  on 
the  right  (west)  bank  of  tlie  Washita  river,  110  miles  south  by  west  of 
Little  Hock.  It  is  situated  on  a  declivity  of  a  high  range  of  hills,  and 
is  built  in  a  very  tasteful  style.  A  few  years  ago  the  site  was  occupied 
by  a  dense  forest,  and  many  of  the  trees  are  still  standing  in  the  streets. 
Camden  is  one  of  the  most  flourishing  towns  in  the  State,  and  possesses 


'618  TENNESSEE. 

great  a'lvaiitagcs  for  trade,  being  at  the  head  of  navigation  for  large 
stoaniors,  several  of  wliicli  arc  constantly  cniploycil  in  conveying  produce 
down  the  river  to  New  Orleans.  A  phmk-road  has  been  coiiinienccd, 
which  \\-ill  connect  Camden  with  Fulton,  on  I\ed  river,  and  will  probably 
draw  an  increase  of  business.  The  growth  of  this  place  has  been  very 
rapid,  and  is  likely  to  continue  so.  It  was  settled  about  1842.  In  1848 
the  population  was  nearly  600;  in  1853,  about  1,400.  The  site  was  for- 
merly a  rendezvous  for  hunters,  and  known  as  "  Ecore  a  Fabre." 

Batesville,  a  thriving  town,  capital  of  Independence  county,  is  on 
White  river,  about  400  miles  from  its  mouth,  90  miles  north-north-east 
of  Little l?ock,  and  115  miles  from  Memphis,  Tennessee.  Small  steamers 
can  ascend  the  river  to  this  point  at  nearly  all  seasons.  A  great  influx  of 
emigration  is  directed  to  this  section  of  the  State,  which  offers  strong  in- 
ducements in  soil  and  climate.  Pine  timber  and  water-power  are  abundant 
in  the  county.  Batesville  is  the  most  important  town  in  the  north-east 
part  of  the  State,  and  has  an  active  trade.  It  contains,  besides  the  county 
buildings,  several  churches  and  2  newspaper  offices.  Population  in  1854, 
about  1700. 


STATE   OF    TENNESSEE. 


The  Tennessee  river,  the  largest  affluent  of  the  Ohio,  is  formed  by  two 
branches,  the  Clinch  and  the  Holston,  which  rise  among  the  Alleghany 
mountains  of  Virginia,  and  unite  at  Kingston,  in  Tennessee.  It  flows 
first  south-west  to  Chattanooga,  near  the  south  boundary  of  the  State, 
where  it  turns  toward  the  north-west  and  west;  but  its  progress  being 
opposed  by  the  Cumberland  mountains,  it  changes  its  course  to  the  south- 
west, makes  an  extensive  circuit  of  near  300  miles  through  North  Ala- 
bama, and  touches  the  State  of  Mississippi  at  its  north-east  extremity. 
Here  it  a^ain  enters  the  State  of  Tennessee,  traverses  its  whole  breadth 
from  south  to  north,  and  gradually  curving  towards  the  west,  crosses 
Kentucky,  and  enters  the  Ohio  river  at  Padueah,  48  miles  from  its 
mouth,  near  37°  north  latitude,  and  88''  35'  west  longitude.  The  length 
of  the  Tennessee  proper  is  estimated  at  800  miles,  and  if  we  include  the 
fiolston,  its  longest  branch,  it  will  measure  about  1,100  miles.  The 
chief  towns  on  its  banks  are  Knoxville  and  Chattanooga,  in  Tennessee; 
Tuscumbia  and  Florence  in  Alabama,  and  Padueah  in  Kentucky.  The 
whole  descent  of  the  river  and  branches  is  computed  to  be  about  2,000 
feet.     The  channel  is  obstructed  by  no  considerable  falls  or  rapids,  ex- 


TENNESSEE.  619 

cepting  the  Muscle  Shoals,  in  Alabama,  where  the  river  runs  over  flint 
and  limestone  rocks  for  more  than  20  miles,  affording  immense  motive 
power.  Steamboats  ascend  the  river  from  its  mouth  to  Florence,  at 
the  foot  of  the  Muscle  Shoals,  about  280  miles.  Above  these  rapids 
it  is  also  navigable  by  steamboats  at  all  seasons,  as  far  as  Knosville, 
on  the  Holston,  a  distance  of  near  500  miles.  The  navigable  por- 
tions of  the  river  are  connected  by  a  railroad.  The  region  through 
which  this  river  flows  is  generally  fertile,  and  in  the  upper  part  of 
its  course  is  beautifully  diversified  with  mountains  and  valleys.  The 
Little  Tennessee,  which  by  some  writers  is  described  as  the  main  stream, 
rises  at  the  base  of  the  Blue  ridge,  near  the  frontier  of  North  Carolina 
and  Georgia,  and  flowing  north-west  into  Tennessee,  unites  with  the 
Holston  about  25  miles  south-west  of  Knoxville,  after  a  tortuous  course 
of  more  than  150  miles.  The  areas  drained  by  this  system  of  rivers  is 
estimated  by  Darby  at  41,000  square  miles.  In  the  winter  of  1831-32 
this  river  Avas  frozen  over,  even  in  the  State  of  Alabama — an  event  of  very 
rare  occurrence. 

The  State  of  Tennessee  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  Kentucky  and  Vir- 
ginia, east  by  North  Carolina,  from  which  it  is  separated  by  the  Alle- 
ghany mountains,  south  by  Georgia,  Alabama,  and  Mississippi,  and  west 
by  Arkansas  and  Missouri,  from  which  it  is  separated  by  the  Mississippi 
river.  It  lies  between  35°  and  36°  36'  north  latitude,  and  between  81° 
40'  and  90°  15'  west  longitude — being  about  430  miles  in  its  greatest 
length  from  east  to  west,  and  110  miles  in  breadth,  including  an  area  of 
about  45,600  square  miles,  or  29,184,000  acres,  of  which  only  5,175,173 
were  improved  in  1850.  The  State  is  commonly  divided  into  three  sec- 
tions :  the  part  east  of  the  Cumberland  mountains  is  called  East  Tennes- 
see ;  between  the  Cumberland  mountains  and  the  Tennessee  river,  it 
takes  the  name  of  Middle  Tennessee ;  and  west  of  the  river  just  named, 
that  of  West  Tennessee. 

Face  of  the  Country. — Tennessee  is  very  agreeably  diversified  with 
mountain,  hill,  and  plain,  containing  within  its  limits  fertility  of  soil, 
beauty  of  scenery,  and  a  delightfully  temperate  climate.  In  the  east  it  is 
separated  from  North  Carolina  by  different  ridges  of  the  Appalachian 
chain,  passing  under  the  various  local  names  of  Stone,  Iron,  Bald,  and 
Unaka  mountains.  Then  follow  the  valleys  of  the  Holston  and  other 
rivers,  forming  the  head-waters  of  the  Tennessee.  Next  succeed  the 
Cumberland  mountains,  an  outlying  ridge  of  the  Alleghanies,  which  en- 
ters the  State  from  Kentucky,  and  crosses  it  in  a  south-west  direction, 
into  Alabama.  The  hight  of  these  mountains,  which  spread  over  about 
50  miles,  is  variously  estimated  at  from  1,000  to  2,00(3  feet.  They  arc 
wooded  to  the  tops,  and  embosom  delightful  and  fertile  valleys.  Their 
summits  are  often  rounded  and  cultivated,  while  others  are  too  rugged 
for  tillage.  Middle  Tennessee,  lying  between  these  mountains  and  the 
Tennessee  river,  is  moderately  hilly,  while  the  section  between  the  river* 
last  named  and  the  Mississippi,  called  West  Tennessee,  is  cither  level  or 
gently  undulating. 

Minerals,  Mineral  Springs,  etc. — Gold  has  been  found  in  the 
south-east  part  of  the  State.    Among  the  other  metallic  minerals  are  iron 


620  TENNESSEE. 

in  abundance,  and  In  E:ist  and  Middle  Tennessee  some  lead,  especially 
in  Carter  county,  silver,  zinc,  manganese,  and  matnietic  iron  ore.  Of  the 
earthy  minerals,  coal,  the  most  abundant  and  valuable,  is  found  in  large 
quantities  in  the  counties  among  the  Cumberland  mountains,  and  cover- 
iug  an  area,  acording  to  Taylor,  of  4,300  square  miles.  There  is  also 
gypsum  of  a  tine  quality,  beautiful  varieties  of  marble,  nitre,  slate, 
(suitable  for  roofing,)  alum,  burr-stones,  and  limestone,  which  forms  the 
bed  of  a  large  portion  of  the  State.  Salt  springs  exist,  but  not  of  a 
very  rich  quality;  there  are  also  some  valuable  mineral  springs.  The 
iron  business  is  beginning  to  attract  the  attention  of  capitalists.  Ac- 
cording to  a  recent  statement,  there  were  on  the  Cumberland  river,  in 
tbe  early  part  of  1853,  21  furnaces,  9  forges,  and  2  rolling  mills,  em- 
ploying §1,216,000  capital,  and  manufacturing  44,500  tons  of  metal,  and 
1,400  kettles,  valued  together  at  §1,678,000.  llich  deposits  of  copper 
are  found  in  the  south-east  part  of  Tennessee,  in  Polk  and  Monroe 
counties,  which  are  now  extensively  worked.  A  plank-road  is  nearly 
finished  from  the  Hiawassec  mines  to  the  Chattanooga  railroad.  This 
must  add  greatly  to  tbe  value  of  the  mines,  Avhich  will  thus  be  made 
readily  accessible  from  a  shipping  port.  In  1854,  in  Polk  county,  12 
difi'erent  mines  were  in  operation,  5  of  wbich  shij^ped  640  tons  in 
one  month. 

Rivers. — Tennessee  is  bounded  on  the  west  by  the  great  Mississippi, 
and  twice  crossed  by  tbe  river  whose  name  it  bears.  The  Cumberland 
make  a  bend  into  the  north  of  the  State,  through  which  it  courses  for 
about  150  miles  before  it  returns  to  Kentucky,  thus  giving  that  portion 
of  the  State  water  communication  with  the  other  parts  of  the  great  Mis- 
sissippi and  Ohio  valleys.  The  Tennessee  enters  the  south-east  of  the 
State  from  North  Carolina,  receives  the  Holston  and  its  tributaries  from 
Virginia,  and  the  Hiawassee  from  Georgia,  then  turns  to  the  south-west 
into  Alabama  at  its  north-east  angle,  and  leaves  it  at  its  north-west  to 
re-enter  Tennessee,  which  it  crosses  in  a  course  almost  directly  north 
into  Kentucky.  The  Hatchee,  a  tributary  of  the  Mississippi;  Duck 
river,  of  the  Tennessee,  from  middle  Tennessee,  and  the  Holston, 
Powell's,  and  Clinch,  tributaries  of  the  same  rivers  in  East  Tennessee, 
are  the  other  principal  streams.  The  Tennessee  has  a  total  course  of 
nearly  900  miles,  about  400  of  which  are  within  the  State,  and  700 
navagable  for  steamboats  (with  the  exception  of  that  portion  in  Alabama 
called  the  Muscle  Shoalsj  to  its  junction  with  the  Holston,  in  East 
Tennessee.  The  Cumberland  is  navigible  400  miles  for  steamboats  to 
Carthage,  about  50  miles  above  Nashville,  in  a  direct  line.  The  tribu- 
tary streams  are  all  more  or  less  navigable,  either  for  steam  or  keej 
boats,  during  high  water.  All  the  waters  of  this  State  ultimately  reach 
the  Mississippi,  though  generally  by  a  circuitous  course.  The  Forked 
Deer  river  is  navigable  150,  the  Big  Hatchee  above  100,  and  the  Obion 
60  miles,  for  steamboats. 

Objects  op  Interest  to  Tourists. — In  common  with  other  lime- 
stone regions,  Tennessee  has  numerous  caves,  several  of  which  are  at 
least  100  feet  below  the  the  surface,  and  a  mile  in  extent.  Some  are 
several  miles  in   length.     One  has  been  descended  for  about  400  feet 


TENNESSEE.  621 

below  the  surface,  where  was  found  a  stream  of  sufficient  force  to  turn 
a  mill.  Another,  on  the  top  of  Cumberland  mountains,  has  a  cave  of 
perpendicular  descent,  whose  bottom  has  never  been  sounded.  Big  Bone 
cave  is  so  called  from  the  bones  of  the  mastodon  found  within  it.  These 
caves  are  all  in  the  Cumberland  mountains.  In  a  spur  of  the  same 
mountains,  called  the  Enchanted  mountain,  are  found  the  impressions 
of  the  feet  of  men  and  animals  in  the  hard  limestone  rock,  whose  ap 
pearance  has  never  been  accounted  for.  Near  Manchester,  in  Coffee 
county,  is  an  old  stone  fort,  situated  between  two  rivers,  and  including 
47  acres,  inclosed  by  a  wall,  on  which  trees  are  growing,  believed  to  be 
500  years  old.  In  Franklin  county  is  a  railway  tunnel,  through  a  spur 
of  the  Cumberland  mountains,  2,200  feet  long. 

Climate,  Soil,  and  Productions. — The  climate  of  Tennessee  is 
mild;  considerable  snow  sometimes  falls  in  the  winters,  which,  however, 
are  generally  short.  The  summers  are  free  from  the  intense  heat  of  the 
Gulf  States.  The  temperature  of  that  portion  of  the  State  among  the 
Cumberland  mountains  is  particularly  agreeable.  Most  parts  of  the 
State  are  healthy,  except  on  the  alluvions  of  the  great  rivers.  The  soil 
of  Tennessee  is  generally  arable,  and  of  a  good  quality.  In  East  Ten- 
nessee, much  of  the  land  among  the  mountains  is  poor  and  ill  adapted  to 
cultivation,  but  even  here  the  valleys  are  very  fertile.  This  section  is 
favorable  to  grazing,  and  great  numbers  of  live  stock  are  exported  from 
thence  to  the  Atlantic  States.  A  greater  number  of  mules  (75,303  in 
1850,  including  asses)  are  raised  in  Tennessee  than  in  any  other  State 
in  the  Union.  Middle  Tennessee  has  much  good  land.  Western 
Tennessee  has  a  rich  black  mould,  and  on  the  shores  of  the  Mississippi 
and  Tennessee  rivers  are  extensive  brakes  of  gigantic  cane.  Indian 
corn,  tobacco,  and  cotton  are  the  great  staples.  In  1850,  Tennessee 
produced  more  hogs  than  any  State  in  the  Union,  was  fifth  in  the 
amount  of  Indian  corn  produced,  fourth  in  that  of  tobacco,  and  fifth  in 
cotton.  The  other  articles  cultivated  are  wheat,  rye,  oats,  buckwheat, 
barley,  sweet  and  Irish  potatoes,  wool,  maple  sugar,  flax,  hemp,  hay, 
cheese,  butter,  wine,  whisky,  and  fruits;  of  the  latter,  apples,  pears,  and 
plums.  According  to  the  census  of  1850,  there  were  in  Tennessee 
72,735  farms,  occupying  5,175,173  acres  of  improved  land,  (about  71 
acres  to  each  farm,)  producing  52,276,228  bushels  of  Indian  corn; 
7,703,086  of  oats;  1,019,386  of  wheat ;  89,137  of  rye;  2,737  of  barley; 
19,427  of  buckwheat;  1,067,844  of  Irish,  and  2,777,716  of  sweet  potatoes; 
369,321  of  peas  and  beans;  14,214  of  grass-seed,  and  18,904  of  flax- 
seed; 20,147,932  pounds  of  tobacco;  8,139,585  of  butter;  77,812,800 
of  cotton;  1,364,378  of  wool;  1,036,572  of  beeswax  and  honey;  177,681 
of  cheese;  368,131  of  flax;  3,000  of  cane,  and  158,557  of  maple  sugar; 
258,854  of  rice,  and  74,091  tons  of  hay;  live  stock  valued  at 
$29,678,016;  market  goods,  $97,183;  orchard  products,  $52,894,  and 
slaughtered  animals,  $6,401,765. 

Forest  Trees. — The  forest  trees  arc  pine,  (in  East  Tennessee,)  sugar- 
maple,  juniper,  red  cedar,  and  savin,  (on  the  mountains,)  poplar,  hick- 
ory, walnut,  oak,  beech,  sycamore,  locust,  cherry,  etc. 

The  animals  are   the   «ajne  as   are  found  in  the  adjacent  States  of 
40 


622  TENNESSEE. 

Kentucky  and  Virginia,  viz.,  deer,  raccoons,  foxc?,  squirrels,  and  some- 
times, although  rarely,  bears,  in  the  wilder  sections  of  the  State. 

Manufactures. — The  natural  water-power,  especially  of  East  Tennes- 
see, combined  with  its  abundance  of  coal  and  other  fuel,  must,  as  soon 
as  the  railway  connections  with  the  Atlantic  States  are  completed,  make 
this  a  great  manufucturing  section;  for  in  addition  to  the  advantages 
mentioned,  she  has  in  her  neighborhood  the  staple  raw  materials,  cotton, 
wool,  and  hemp.  There  were  in  Tennessee  in  1850,  2,8G1  establishments 
each  producing  §500  and  upwards  annually,  engaged  in  mining,  manu- 
factures, and  the  mechanic  arts,  employing  $6,975,278  capital,  and 
11,154  male  and  878  female  hands;  consuming  raw  material  worth 
$4,900,952,  and  yielding  products  valued  at  $9,728,438.  Among  these 
were  33  cotton  factories,  employing  $669,600  of  capital,  and  310  male 
and  581  female  hands,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $297,500,  and 
manufacturing  363,250  yards  of  stuffs,  and  2,326,250  pounds  of  yarn, 
worth  a  total  value  of  $510,624;  4  woolen  establishments,  employing 
$10,900  of  capital,  and  15  male  and  2  female  hands,  consuming  raw 
material  worth  $1,675,  and  manufacturing  2,220  hats,  worth  $6,310  ;  81 
furnaces,  forges,  etc.,  employing  $1,915,950  capital,  and  2,705  male  and 
172  female  hands,  consuming  raw  material  worth  $730,551,  and  manu- 
facturing 44,152  tons  of  wrought,  cast,  and  pig  iron,  worth  a  total  value 
of  $1,611,043;  30  in  manufacturing  spirituous  and  malt  liquors,  employ- 
ing $66,125  capital,- and  79  hands,  consuming  3,000  bushels  of  barley, 
258,400  of  corn,  and  5,480  of  rye,  and  producing  174,925  gallons  of 
whisky,  wine,  etc. ;  and  364  tanneries,  employing  $490,320  capital, 
consuming  raw  material  worth  $396,159,  and  producing  leather  valued 
at  746,484.  Homemade  manufactures  also  were  produced  of  the  value 
of  $3,137,790,  and  family  goods  worth  $2,886,661. 

Internal  Improvements. — There  were  in  Tennessee,  January  1, 
1855,  517  miles  of  completed  raiload,  built  at  a  cost  of  10,436,610,  and 
946  miles  in  course  of  construction.  A  railroad,  (already  finished  to 
Nashville,)  connecting  Savannah  and  Charleston  with  Louisville  and  other 
points  on  the  Ohio  river,  will  pass  through  Tennessee.  Another,  in  a 
great  state  of  forwardness,  will  connect  the  same  points  with  ]\[emphis ; 
and  others  with  New  Orleans  and  Mobile :  thus  opening  a  complete  com- 
munication between  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  valleys  and  with  Charles- 
ton and  Savannah.  The  last-named  places  are  now  (1855)  more  or  less 
directly  connected  with  Knoxville,  where  the  East  Tennessee  and 
Virginia  railroads,  now  rapidly  approaching  completion,  will  also 
terminate. 

Commerce. — Tennessee  has  but  little  foreign  commerce,  though  very 
favorably  located  for  domestic  trade,  being  washed  on  the  west  by  the 
Mississippi  river,  twice  crossed  by  the  Tennessee  river,  and  its  northern 
portion  traversed  for  more  than  100  miles  by  the  Cumberland,  all  of 
which  are  navigable  for  steamboats.  The  exports  are  mainly  live  stock, 
pork,  bacon,  lard,  butter,  ginseng,  cotton  bagging,  flour,  Indian  corn, 
fruits,  tobacco,  cotton,  hemp,  feathers,  and  saltpetre,  which  find  their 
way  mostly  to  New  Orleans,  and  thence  either  to  northern  or  foreign 
ports;  but  new  exits  are  about  being  opened  for  the  products  of  East 


TENNESSEE.  623 

and  Middle  Tennessee,  the  one  tbrougli  Virginia,  and  the  other  through 
Georgia  and  South  Carolina,  both  by  railroad.  Tennessee  has  no  direct 
foreign  trade;  tonnage  owned,  7,621,  in  1854;  built  the  same  year,  2 
vessels,  tonnage  only  208. 

Education. — Tennessee  bad,  according  to  the  censes  of  1850,  8 
colleges,  with  570  students;  1  theological  school,  with  24,  and  1  medical 
school,  with  158  students ;  and  a  total  income  of  ^65,037,  of  which 
$9,300  was  from  endowments,  and  $482  from  public  funds;  2,680  public 
schools,  with  104,117  pupils,  and  $11)8,518  income,  of  which  $8,912  was 
from  endowments,  $98,548  from  public  funds,  and  $4,500  from  taxation; 
264  academies  and  other  schools,  with  9,928  pupils,  and  $155,902  in- 
come, of  which  $6,183  was  from  endowments,  and  $10,008  from  public 
funds  ;  and  attending  schools  as  returned  by  families,  146,200.  Of  the 
free  adult  population,  78,619,  of  whom  505  were  foreigners,  could  not 
read  or  write. 

Religious  Denominations. — There  were  in  Tennessee,  in  1850, 
2,027  churches,  of  which  the  Baptists  owned  648;  the  Christians,  63; 
Episcopalians,  16;  Free  church,  30;  Friends,  4;  Lutherans,  12;  Meth- 
odists, 867;  Presbyterians,  363;  Roman  Catholics,  4;  Tunkers,  1; 
Union  church,  15;  and  minor  sects,  3;  giving  one  church  to  every  500 
persons.     Value  of  church  property,  $1,216,201. 

Periodicals. — According  to  the  census,  there  were  published  in 
1850,  in  this  State,  8  daily,  2  tri-wcekly,  and  36"*  weekly  newspapers, 
with  an  aggregate  annual  circulation  of  2,139,644  copies. 

Public  Institutions. — Tennessee  has  a  State  penitentiary,  at  Nash- 
ville, conducted  on  the  silent  system,  which  had  196  convicts  confined 
in  1850,  of  whom  9  were  of  foreign  birth,  and  7  colored  persons.  There 
is  also  a  deaf  and  dumb  asylum  at  Knoxville.  Tennessee  had  9  public 
libraries  in  1850,  with  5,373  volumes;  20  school  and  Sunday-school, 
with  7,598  volumes,  and  5  college  libraries,  with  9,925  volumes. 

Population. — Though  not  the  largest  in  area,  Tennessee  is  the 
second  State  in  poiat  of  population  in  the  great  Mississippi  valley.  Her 
sons  partake  of  the  same  parentage  as  those  of  Kentucky,  her  original 
settlers  having  been  mostly  from  North  Carolina  and  Virginia;  and 
they  share  with  the  Kentuckiaus  a  manly  frankness  of  character, 
courage,  and  loyalty  to  the  federal  constitution.  At  the  first  national 
census,  in  1790,  her  inhabitants  numbered  35,791;  105,602  in  1800; 
261,727  in  1810;  422,813  in  1820;  681,904  in  1830;  829,210  in  1840; 
and  1,002,717  in  1850;  of  whom  382,225  were  white  males,  374,601 
white  females;  3,117  free  colored  males,  3,305  colored  females;  118,780 
male,  and  120,079  female  slaves.  This  population  was  divided  into 
130,004  families,  occupying  129,419  dwellings.  Representative  popu- 
lation, 906,  830.  Population  to  square  mile,  21.99.  Of  the  free  popu- 
lation, 585,084  were  born  in  the  State;  170,571  in  other  States  of  the 
Union;  706  in  England;  2,640  in  Ireland  :  344  in  Scotland  and  Wales; 
1,168  in  Germany;  245  in  France;  76  in  British  America;  561  in  other 
countries,  and  1,759  whose  places  of  birth  were  unknown — giving  about 
1  per  cent,  of  the  free  population  of  foreign  birth.  In  the  year  ending 
June   1,  1850,  there  occurred  11,874  deaths,  or  nearly  12  persons  in 


624  TENNESSEE. 

every  thousand.  Id  the  same  period,  1,005  piiupers,  of  whom  11  were 
of  foreign  birth,  received  aid,  at  an  expense  of  about  §30  for  each 
pauper.  Of  the  entire  populatiou,  877  were  deaf  and  dumb,  of  whom  2 
were  free  colored,  and  41  slaves;  474  were  blind,  uf  whom  9  were  free 
colored,  and  82  slaves;  407  were  insane,  of  whom  5  were  free  colored, 
and  22  slaves;  and  846  idiotic,  of  whom  5  were  free  colored,  and  85 
slaves.  Of  the  entire  population,  103  were  engaged  in  mining;  227,739 
in  agriculture;  2,217  in  commerce;  17,815  in  manufactures;  55  ia 
navigating  the  ocean;  302  in  internal  navigation;  and  2,012  in  the 
learned  professions. 

Counties. — Tennessee  is    divided  into  79    counties,   viz.,  Anderson 
Bedford,  Benton,   Bledsoe,  Blount,  Bradley,  Campbell,  Cannon,  Carroll 
Carter,  Claiborne,  Cocke,  Coffee,  Davidson,  Decatur,  De  Kalb,  Dickson 
Dyer,    Fayette,    Fentress,  Franklin,    Gibson,  Giles,  Granger,  Greene 
Grundy.  Hamilton,  Hancock,  Hardeman,  Hardin,  Hawkins,  Haywood; 
Henderson,  Henry,  Hickman,  Humphreys,  Jackson,  Jefferson,  Johnson 
Knox,  Lauderdale,  Lawrence,  Lewis,  Lincoln,  3Iacon,  Madison,  Marion 
Marshall,    Maury,    McMinu,    McNairy,    Meigs,    Monroe,    Montgomery 
Morgan,  Obion,  Overton,  Perry,  Polk  Bhca,  lloane,  Robertson,  Ruther- 
ford, Scott,  Sevier,  Shelby,   Smith,  Stewart,  Sullivan,  Sumner,  Tipton, 
Van  Buren,  Warren,  Washington,  Wayne,  Weakley,  White,  William- 
son, and  Wilson.     Capital,  Nashville. 

Cities  and  Towns. — Nashville  is  the  capital,  and  largest  city. 
Population,  in  1850,  10,165,  (15,000  in  1853;)  the  other  principal 
towns  are,  Memphis,  population  8,841,  (12,000  in  1853;)  Chattanooga, 
3,500  in  1850;  Columbia,  2,977;  Knoxville,  2,076,  (4,000  in  1853;) 
Murfreesborough,  Jackson,  Lebanon,  Edgefield,  Pulaski,  and  Shelby- 
ville,  between  1^000  and  2,000  each. 

Government,  Finances,  etc. — The  governor  of  Tennessee  is  elected 
by  popular  sufi"rage  for  two  years,  and  receives  §3,000  per  annum.  The 
senate  consists  of  25,  and  the  house  of  representatives  of  75  members, 
elected  for  two  years  by  the  people.  The  legislature  meets  biennially  on 
the  first  Monday  in  October.  Every  free  white  man  of  the  age  of  21 
years,  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  and  sis  months  a  citizen  of  the 
county  in  which  he  may  offer  to  vote,  next  preceding  an  election,  is  a 
qualified  voter.  The  judiciary  consists — 1.  Of  a  supreme  court,  pre- 
sided over  by  3  judges.  2.  Of  a  court  of  chancery,  presided  over  by  6 
chancellors;  and  3.  Of  14  circuit  courts,  with  one  judge  to  each  circuit. 
All  the  judges  are  elected  by  the  people  for  S  years.  Davidson  county, 
in  which  is  the  city  of  Nashville,  has  a  special  criminal  court,  and  a  com- 
mon law  and  chancery  court.  Memphis  has  also  a  special  criminal  court. 
Salaries  of  the  judges,  from  81,500  to  $2,500.  Public  debt  in  1854, 
^5,740,856,  and  81,353,209  contingent  debt.  Total,  87,100,065.  School 
fund,  §1,500,000;  other  productive  property,  §3,654,456;  property  not 
productive,  §1,101,390.  Annual  expenses,  exclusive  of  debt  and 
schools,  about  §165,000.  In  January,  1855,  Tennessee  had  32  banks, 
including  19  branches,  with  an  aggregate  capital  of  §6,717,848,  a  circu- 
lation of  .85,850  262,  and  §1,473,040  in  coin. 

History. — Tennessee  was  the  first  State  settled  by  Anglo-Americans 


TENNESSEE.  626 

west  of  the  Alleghanies,  emigrants  from  North  Carolina  having  built 
Fort  Loudon,  in  East  Tennessee,  as  early  as  1757.  But  this  settlement 
was  attacked  by  the  savages,  and  the  inhabitants  either  murdered  or 
driven  off.  Colonization,  however,  -was  recommenced  in  a  few  years 
afterwards  in  the  same  section  of  the  State.  This  colony  was  also 
harassed  by  the  Indians  till  after  the  Revolutiouary  war.  Originally, 
Tennessee  formed  a  part  of  the  possessions  of  North  Carolina,  which 
State  ceded  it  to  the  general  government  in  1784,  but  afterwards  revoked 
the  grant,  when  the  inhabitants  attempted  to  form  an  independent  State 
under  the  name  of  Franklinia.  It  was  finally  ceded  to  the  United 
States  government,  and  formed  a  part  of  the  south-western  Territory 
till  its  admission  as  a  sovereign  State  in  1796,  forming  the  sixteenth 
member  of  the  confederacy.  Tennessee  took  an  active  part  in  the  war 
of  1812,  and  sent  several  distinguished  leaders  to  its  armies;  prominent 
among  whom  was  General  Andrew  Jackson,  since  so  celebrated  for  his 
administration  of  the  affairs  of  the  central  government  during  his 
presidency.  James  K.  Polk,  the  eleventh  president  of  the  United 
States,  was  also  a  citizen  of  this  State. 

Nashville,  a  handsome  and  flourishing  city,  capital  of  tlic  State  and 
of  Davidson  count}",  is  situated  on  the  left  bank  of  Cumberland  river, 
200  miles  from  its  mouth,  230  miles  east-north-east  of  Memphis,  206 
miles  south-west  of  Lexington,  in  Kentucky,  and  684  miles  from  Wash- 
ington. Latitude  3G°  9'  north,  longitude  86°  49*  west;  elevation  above 
the  sea,  460  feet.  It  is  the  most  wealthy  and  populous  city  of  Tennes- 
see, and  is  distinguished  for  its  enterprising  spirit,  literary  taste,  and 
polished  society.  Many  of  the  private  residences  are  built  on  a  scale  of 
palatial  magnitude  and  splendor,  and  the  public  buildings  exhibit  a 
corresponding  character.  The  new  capitol,  which  stands  on  a  command- 
ing eminence,  175  feet  above  the  river,  is  one  of  the  most  noble,  mag- 
nificent, and  costly  structures  in  America.  The  material  is  of  a  fine 
limestone,  which  was  quarried  on  the  spot,  and  nearly  resembles  marble. 
The  dimensions  are  240  feet  by  135,  and  the  estimated  cost  51,000,000. 
It  is  bailt,  as  it  is  stated,  entirely  of  stone  and  iron,  without  any  wood 
about  it,  except  the  plank  on  which  the  coj^per  roofing  is  fastened;  the 
floor  and  inner  walls  are  of  dressed  stone.  The  foundation  of  the 
capitol  was  laid  in  1845.  A  lunatic  asylum,  on  a  large  scale,  has  recently 
been  erected  in  the  vicinity.  The  State  penitentiary  at  this  place  is 
310  feet  by  50,  containing  200  cells.  The  University  of  Nashville  was 
founded  in  1806.  The  Medical  college  connected  with  the  University 
was  opened  in  1851  ;  it  occupies  a  capacious  building,  and  has  about 
100  students.  There  are  also  a  number  of  female  seminaries,  the  larges 
of  which  is  attended  by  above  300  pupils.  About  12  newspapors  are 
published  here,  5  or  6  of  which  are  dailies.  Nashville  contains  3  banks, 
wiih  a  total  capi'al  of  $5,181,500,  and  about  14  churches.  The  mineral 
cabinet  of  the  lato  Dr.  Troost  contains  the  largest  private  col!(!ction  in 
the  United  States.  The  Cumberland  river  is  crossed  by  a  magnificent 
wire  suspension  bridge,  recently  built  at  a  cost  of  .1?100,000.  'JMio  city 
is  lighted  with  gi^s,  and  supplied  with  water  raised  i'rom  the  Cumberland 
river.     Nashville  has  expended  large  sums  in  the  construction  of  macad- 


626  TENNESSEE. 

amizod  turnpikes,  8  of  whicli  radiate  in  different  directions.  The  river 
is  uavigutod  during  high  water  by  large  steamboats  from  its  mouth  to 
this  point,  and  a  number  of  splendid  packets  are  owned  here.  The  ship- 
ping of  the  port,  June  30,  1852,  amounted  to  an  aggregate  of  4,083 
tons,  enrolled  and  licensed,  all  of  which  were  employed  in  steam  naviga- 
tion. ])uring  the  year,  5  steamboats,  with  an  aggregate  burthen  of 
479J  tons,  were  admeasured.  This  city  is  the  center  of  an  active  trade, 
and  the  seat  of  manufactures  of  various  kinds.  Nashville  is  the  ter- 
minus of  the  Nashville  and  Chattanooga  railroad,  150  miles  long,  which 
was  finished  iu  1852,  at  an  expense  of  about  $o, 000, 000.  The  road  is 
built  in  a  very  substantial  manner,  and  completes  the  connection  with 
Charleston  and  Savannah.  The  construction  of  this  railroad  has  greatly 
enhanced  the  value  of  property,  and  has  given  vigorous  impulse  to  the 
prosperity  and  improvement  of  the  place.  Other  railroads  have  been 
commenced,  which  will  connect  this  city  with  Louisville,  Memphis,  New 
Orleans,  etc.     Population  in  1845,  12,000 ;  in  1853,  about  20,000. 

Memphis,  a  flourishing  city  and  port  of  entry  of  Shelby  county,  is 
beautifully  situated  on  the  Mississippi  river,  just  below  the  mouth  of 
Wolf  river,  and  on  the  4th  Chackasaw  bluff,  420  miles  below  St.  Louis,  and 
209  miles  west-south-west  of  Nashville.  It  is  the  most  populous  and 
important  town  on  the  river  between  St.  Louis  and  New  Orleans,  and 
occupies  the  only  eligible  site  for  a  commercial  depot  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio  to  Vicksburg,  a  distance  of  650  miles.  The  bluff  on  which  it 
stands  is  elevated  about  30  feet  above  the  highest  floods,  and  its  base  is 
washed  by  the  river  for  a  distance  of  3  miles,  while  a  bed  of  sandstone  pro- 
jects into  the  stream  and  forms  a  convenient  landing.  The  appearance  of 
Memphis  from  the  river  is  remarkably  fine.  An  esplanade,  several  hundred 
feet  wide,  extends  along  the  bluff  in  front  of  the  town,  and  is  bordered 
with  blocks  of  large  warehouses.  Travelers,  who  have  recently  visited 
Memphis,  express  astonishment  at  the  signs  of  improvement  and  com- 
mercial activity  which  are  here  exhibited.  The  population  has  been 
doubled  since  1845.  It  contains  6  or  7  churches,  1  academy,  a  medical 
college,  2  banks,  and  a  telegraph  office.  The  United  States  government 
has  recently  established  a  naval  depot  at  this  place.  The  river  is  deep 
enough  to  float  the  largest  ship  of  war  from  this  point  to  its  mouth.  The 
building  of  steamboats  has  been  commenced,  and  manufactories  of  cot- 
ton, iron,  and  ropes  have  been  established.  Six  weekly  and  several  daily 
newspapers  are  published  here.  Memphis  is  the  western  terminus  of 
the  Memphis  and  Charleston  railroad,  part  of  which  is  in  operation. 
Another  railroad  is  in  course  of  construction  from  this  place  to  Nash- 
ville, and  one  also  projected  to  Little  Rock,  Arkansas.  Steamboats  make 
frequent  passages  between  this  and  other  ports  on  the  river.  The  quantity 
of  cotton  annually  shipped  here  is  estimated  at  above  100,000  bales. 
The  population  in  1840  was  3,300,  in  1850  it  amounted  to  8,841,  and  in 
1853  it  was  estimated  at  12,000. 

Knoxville,  a  flourishing  city,  capital  of  Knox  county,  and  formerly 
the  seat  of  the  State  government,  is  beautifully  situated  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  Holston  river,  4  miles  below  its  confluence  with  the  French 
Broad  river,  185  miles  east  of  Nashville,  and  204  miles  south-east  of 


TENNESSEE.  627 

Lexington,  Kentucky.  The  situation  is  elevated  and  healthy,  command- 
ing a  beautiful  view  of  the  river,  and  the  Blue  mountains  of  Chilliowee, 
somj  30  miles  distant.  The  river  is  navigable  for  steamboats  at  all  sea- 
sons from  this  point  downward  ;  and  during  the  winter  and  sjDriug  they 
extend  th'ir  trips  up  the  river  as  far  as  Kingsport.  This  region,  however, 
in  future  will  not  be  dependent  on  the  river  for  the  means  of  transpor- 
tation. The  East  Tennessee  and  Georgia  railroad,  which  extends  from 
Knoxville  to  Dalton,  in  Georgia,  connecting  with  the  railways  in  that 
State,  was  opened  in  1852,  and  has  given  a  new  impetus  to  every  depart- 
ment of  business.  Another  railroad  has  been  commenced,  which  will 
extend  from  Knoxville  to  the  Virginia  line.  When  these  two  roads  shall 
have  been  completed,  East  Tennessee  will  be  intersected  by  a  chain  of 
railways  extending  from  Boston  to  Memphis,  forming  the  great  thorough- 
fare of  the  Union,  and  traversing  a  country  remarkable  for  the  fertility 
of  its  soil  and  the  salubrity  of  its  climate.  This  will  be  the  most  central 
and  direct  line  from  New  York  to  New  Orleans.  Knoxville,  from  its 
midway  position,  may  be  expected  to  derive  much  benetit  from  the  im- 
mense amount  of  trade  and  travel  which  must  pass  along  this  route.  The 
completion  of  the  railroad  from  Dalton  to  Knoxville  appears  to  have 
produced  a  great  sensation  among  the  inhabitants  of  East  Tennessee,  a 
region  heretofore  almost  isolated  from  the  busy  world.  In  the  poetical 
language  of  a  gentleman  residing  in  that  region,  to  whom  the  editors  are 
indebted  for  much  valuable  information,  "  the  neigh  of  the  iron  horse 
mingles  with  the  roar  of  her  innumerable  water-falls,  and  awakens  the 
echoes  of  her  vast  and  silent  forests."  The  city  already  exhibits  an 
aspect  of  increased  prosperity,  and  manufactures  of  various  kinds  are 
springing  up  in  its  vicinity.  The  manufactory  of  window-glass  in  this 
place  is  said  to  be  the  largest  in  the  Southern  States.  Knoxville  con- 
tains the  State  asylum  for  the  deaf  and  dumb,  and  is  the  seat  of  the 
University  of  East  Tennessee,  founded  in  1807.  It  has  5  churches, 
3  banks,  several  academies,  and  printing  oflBces  issuing  6  or  7  newspapers. 
It  was  laid  out  in  1794,  in  which  year  it  became  the  capital  of  the  State, 
and  so  continued  until  1817.  Population  in  1850,  3,690 ;  in  1854, 
about  5,000. 

Chattanooga,  a  flourishing  post-village  of  Hamilton  county,  on  the 
Tennessee  river,  250  miles  by  water  below  Knoxville,  and  140  miles 
south-east  of  Nashville.  It  is  the  terminus  of  the  Nashville  and  Chat- 
tanooga railroad,  and  of  the  Western  Atlantic  railroad  which  connects  it 
with  the  chief  towns  of  Georgia.  The  Tennessee  river  is  navigable  by 
Bteam  during  about  8  months  in  the  year,  and  by  small  boats  at  all  times. 
These  circumstances  render  Chattanooga  one  of  the  most  important  and 
flourishing  towns  of  the  State.  Since  the  completion  of  the  Western 
and  Atlantic  railroad,  in  1850,  the  population  has  increased  at  the  rate 
of  about  100  per  month.  The  surplus  productions  of  East  Tennessee, 
and  part  of  Middle  Tennessee,  are  mostly  shipped  from  this  point.  The 
surrounding  region  is  liberally  supplied  with  water-power  and  timber,  and 
the  hills  contain  abundance  of  stone  coal  and  iron  ore.  Chattanooga  has  1 
steam  saw-mill,  2  sash  and  blind  factories,  3  cabinet  factories,  in  which 
Bteam-power  is  used,  4  newspaper  offices,  and  1  bank.     The  manufacture 


628  KENTUCKY. 

of  iron  has  also  been  commenced.  Laid  out  iu  1839.  Population  in 
1853,  estimated  at  3,500. 

Columbia,  a  beautiful  and  thriving  post-village,  capital  of  Maury 
county,  is  on  the  left  bank  of  Duck  river,  41  miles  south  by  west  of 
Nashville.  A  company  has  been  formed  to  improve  the  navigation  of 
Duck  river.  The  surrounding  country  is  populous  and  highly  productive. 
The  town  has  considerable  trade,  and  is  distinguished  by  the  excellence 
of  its  schools.  It  is  the  seat  of  Jackson  College,  and  of  3  female 
seminaries.  The  Columbia  Female  Institute  is  a  splendid  structure,  sur- 
rounded with  beautiful  grounds.  The  proposed  railroad  leading  from 
Nashville  to  Jackson,  (in  Mississippi,)  and  Mobile,  will  probably  pass 
through  this  place.  Columbia  was  the  residence  of  President  Polk  pre- 
vious to  his  election  in  1844:.  It  contains  2  banks,  and  3  or  4  news- 
paper offices.     Population  about  2,500. 

MuRFREESBOROUGH,  a  haudsomc  post-village,  capital  of  Rutherford 
county,  is  on  the  railroad  from  Nashville  to  Charleston,  in  South  Caro- 
lina, 30  miles  south-east  of  Nashville.  It  is  situated  in  a  beautiful 
plain,  surrounded  by  a  healthy  and  fertile  country.  The  Union  Uni- 
versity at  this  place  is  a  flourishing  institution,  founded  by  the  Baptists, 
in  1841.  There  is  also  a  female  institute,  under  the  direction  of  the 
Baptists ;  1  bank,  and  5  churches.  Two  newspapers  are  published 
here.  Murfreesborough  was  the  capital  of  Tennessee  from  1817  to  1827, 
when  the  State  house  was  consumed  by  fire. 


STATE   OF   KENTUCKY. 


This  State,  the  second  admitted  into  the  confederacy  after  the  Revolu- 
tion, is  bounded  on  the  north-west  and  north  by  Illinois,  Indiana, 
and  Ohio,  (from  which  it  is  separated  by  the  Ohio  river,)  east  by  the 
Big  Sandy  river  and  Cumberland  mountains,  which  divide  it  from  Vir- 
ginia ;  south  by  Tennessee,  and  west  by  the  Mississippi  river,  which 
runs  between  it  and  Missouri.  Kentucky  lies  between  36°  30'  and  SO'' 
10'  north  latitude,  and  between  81°  50'  and  89°  26'  west  longitude, 
being  about  300  miles  in  length,  from  east  to  west,  about  180  in  its 
greatest,  and  150  in  average  width,  and  including  an  area  of  nearly 
37,680  square  miles,  or  24,115,200  acres,  of  which  11,368,270  were  im- 
proved in  1850. 

Face    op    the   Country. — The   Cumberland  mountains  form  the 


KENTUCKY.  629 

south-east  boundary  of  the  State,  and  several  outlying  ridges  traverse 
the  south-east  counties,  but  none  of  them  are  of  great  elevation,  being 
probably  under  2,000  feet.  Passing  west,  the  centi'Ul  and  uorih  counties 
are  hilly,  or  undulating,  but  those  west  of  the  Cumberland  river  are 
mostly  level.  A  range  of  hills  runs  nearly  parallel  with  the  Ohio  river, 
with  intervals  of  bottom-land  between  it  and  the  river,  sometimes  hav- 
ing a  breadth  of  10  or  even  20  miles. 

Geology. — This  State  partakes  of  the  carboniferous  rocks  character- 
istic of  the  Mississippi  valley.  The  strata,  which  are  composed  of 
sedimentary  rocks,  lie  all  nearly  horizontal,  or  with  very  little  dip,  verg- 
ing from  Cincinnati  as  a  center.  The  blue  limestone  is  the  lowest  rock 
in  Kentucky  exposed  to  the  surface,  mostly  mixed  with  clay  and  mag- 
nesia; the  latter  is  found  sometimes  in  large  quantitcs.  It  forms  the 
surface  rock  in  a  large  part  of  Kentucky  adjacent  to  the  State  of  Ohio, 
extending  south-east  from  Dayton  to  Danville,  and  east  from  Madison  to 
Maysville. 

Minerals. — Kentucky  abounds  in  bituminous  coal,  which,  though 
not  yet  extensively  mined,  crops  out  of  the  river  banks  and  hill -sides, 
indicating  its  localities,  when  the  scarcity  of  wood  or  the  increase  of 
manufuactures  may  call  for  its  use.  The  amount  of  iron  manufac- 
tured in  1850  was  about  33,000  tons.  Lead,  iron-pyrites,  marble,  (on  the 
cliffs  of  the  Kentucky  river,)  freestone,  gypsum,  conglomerate,  and  cliff 
limestone  are  the  other  minerals.  Salt  and  medicinal  springs  are 
particularly  numerous  in  this  State.  The  salt  licks,  so  famous  in  the 
hunter's  vocabulary,  are  names  given  to  the  vicinity  of  the  salt  springs, 
where  the  buffalo  and  other  wild  animals  have  licked  the  ground,  and 
almost  eaten   it,  so  as  to  present  a  bare  space  for  some  distance  around. 

Rivers. — Kentucky  is  washed  along  the  entire  extent  of  her  north 
boundary  by  the  Ohio  river,  which  gives  her  a  steamboat  navigation  of 
more  than  GOO  miles,  and  opens  to  her  the  inland  commerce  of  the  Ohio 
valley.  The  great  Mississippi  in  like  manner  coasts  her  west  limits,  and 
gives  Kentucky  access  to  the  trade  of  the  immense  valley  which  bears 
its  name.  The  Cumberland  river  rises  in  the  south-east  part  of  the 
State.  The  Tennessee  has  its  mouth,  and  about  70  miles  of  its  course,  in 
that  part  of  the  State  west  of  the  Cumberland  river.  The  other  rivers, 
commencing  at  the  east,  are  the  Licking,  Kentucky,  Salt,  and  Green 
rivers.  The  Big  Sandy,  a  tributary  of  the  Ohio,  (as  arc  all  the  important 
streams  of  Kentucky,)  forms  the  east  boundary  for  about  100  miles. 

Objects  of  Interest  to  Tourists. — No  western  State  probably  pre- 
sents so  great  a  variety  of  objects  to  interest  the  lover  of  nature  as 
Kentucky  ;  whether  we  regard  mere  picturcsqueuess,  or  the  wild  and 
more  striking  deviations  from  the  ordinary  course  of  creation.  Prominent 
among  these,  and  perhaps  first  among  the  subterranean  caverns  of  the 
globe,  stands  the  Mammoth  cave,  in  Edmondson  county,  south  of  the  mid- 
dle of  the  State.  In  the  extent  and  number  of  its  clianibers,  in  the 
length  of  its  galleries,  and  its  variety  of  interesting  objects,  such  as 
streams,  mounds,  stalactites,  stalagmites,  etc.,  it  has  no  equal.  It  is  said 
to  have  been  explored  for  10  miles  (part  of  that  distance  in  a  boat,  on  a 
deep  river,  inhabited  by  white,  eyeless  fish)  without  giving  any  indica- 


630  KENTUCKY. 

cations  of  coming  to  a  termination.  If  its  lateral  branches  are  included, 
you  have  an  extent  of  probably  40  miles  of  cavernous  windings.  Sta- 
lactites of  ponderous  "Size  hang  from  the  vaults,  formed  by  the  droppings 
from  the  limestone  roofs,  and  gigantic  stalagmites  bristle  the  floors  of 
these  immense  chambers;  one  of  which,  called  the  Temple,  is  stated  to 
occupy  an  area  of  2  acres,  and  to  be  covered  by  a  single  dome  of  solid 
rock,  120  foet  high. 

Climate. — Kentucky  enjoys  in  her  climate  a  happy  medium  between 
the  severity  of  the  Northern  States  and  the  enervating  heats  of  the 
South,  having  but  2  or  3  months'  winter,  with  mild  springs  and  autumns. 
It  is  milder  than  the  same  latitude  on  the  Atlantic  side  of  the  Allega- 
nies,  but  subject  to  sudden  changes. 

Soil  and  Productions. — In  the  fertility  of  its  soil,  Kentucky  rivals 
the  most  favored  parts  of  the  great  Mississippi  valley.  Perhaps  no 
district  in  the  United  States  surpasses  that  around  Lexington,  both  for 
the  richness  of  the  soil  and  the  picture.-queness  of  "  its  lay,"  if  we  may 
be  allowed  the  use  of  the  term.  Kentucky  is  generally  well  tim- 
bered, and  in  parts  the  cane  grows  to  a  hight  of  12  feet,  forming  exten- 
sive canebrakes,  so  dense  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  pass  through  them. 
The  Barrens,  so  called,  in  the  south  part  of  the  State,  and  about  the 
head-waters  of  the  Green  river,  are  very  unjustly  named,  as,  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  sterile  elevations,  they  are,  when  in  a  state  of  nature, 
covered  with  pasture.  Its  staple  products  are  Indian  corn,  tobacco,  flax, 
and  hemp,  besides  which  large  quimtities  of  wheat,  rye,  oats,  wool,  peas, 
beans,  Irish  and  sweet  potatoes,  barley,  fruits,  market  products,  butter, 
cheese,  hay,  grass-seeds,  maple-sugar,  beeswax,  and  honey,  and  some 
buckwheat,  rice,  wine,  hops,  cotton,  silk,  and  sugar-cane  are  produced. 

Forest  Trees. — Kentucky,  at  its  first  settlement,  was  one  of  the 
best  wooded  of  the  western  States.  The  natural  growth  of  the  State 
include  the  blackwalnut,  oak,  chestnut,  buckeye,  sugar-tree,  elm,  papaw, 
honey-locust,  mulberry,  ash,  yellow  poplar,  coffee-tree,  cottonwood,  and 
whitethorn.       The   fruit-trees   are   the   apple,    pear,   plum,   and   peach. 

Manufactures. — Kentucky  is  not  yet  largely  engaged  in  manufac- 
tures, though  the  amount  of  capital  invested  in  this  branch  of  industry 
is  considerable. 

Internal  Improvements. — Although  Kentucky  has  not  kept  pace 
•with  her  sister  States  north  of  the  Ohio  river  in  constructing  works  of 
intercommunication,  yet  she  has  not  been  inattentive  to  the  importance 
of  cheap  and  expeditious  means  of  transport  for  her  valuable  products. 
In  January,  1854,  there  was  233  miles  of  railroad  in  operation,  and  452 
(according  to  one  statement,  or  550  according  to  another,)  in  course  of 
construction. 

Commerce. — Kentucky  carries  on  an  active  trade  with  New  Orleans, 
and  other  towns  on  the  Mississippi  and  Ohio  rivers.  Most  of  her  rivers 
are  navigable  to  a  considerable  distance  for  steamboats,  and  still  further 
for  flatboats.  The  exports  are  hemp,  salt,  beef,  pork,  bacon,  butter,  hogs, 
horses,  and  mules.  Large  numbers  of  the  last  two  are  annually  driven 
east  to  the  Atlantic  States  for  sale.  Cotton  bagging  and  hemp  cordage 
are  also  extensive  articles  of  export. 


KENTUCKY.  651 

Education. — In  December,  1854,  the  State  school  fund  amounted  to 
$1,400,270,  yielding  an  annual  income  of  about  $75,000.  According  to 
the  census  of  1850,  Kentucky  had  15  colleges,  with  1,873  students,  and 
$131,461  income,  of  which  $45,608  was  from  endowments,  and  $15,447 
from  taxation;  2,234  public  schools,  with  71,429  pupils,  and  $211,852 
income,  of  which  $41,276  was  from  taxation,  and  $46,376  from  public 
funds;  and  330  academies  and  other  schools,  with  12,712  pupils,  and 
$252,617  income,  of  which  $5,445  was  from  endowments,  and  $5,534 
from  public  funds. 

Religious  Denominations. — Of  the  1,845  churches  in  Kentucky  In 
1850,  803  were  owned  by  different  sects  of  Baptists;  117  by  the  Chris- 
tians; 119  by  the  Episcopalians  ;  34  by  the  Free  Church;  530  by  the 
Methodists  ;  224  by  the  Presbyterians ;  48  by  the  Roman  Catholics ; 
30  by  the  Union  Church.  The  rest  were  owned  by  the  African  Church, 
Grerman  Protestant,  Jews,  Lutherans,  Republicans,  Shakers,  Tunkers, 
Unitarians,  and  Universalists. 

Public  Institutions. — Kentucky  has  not  been  unmindful  of  her  un- 
fortunate children,  for  249  of  whom  a  State  lunatic  asylum  at  Lexington 
afforded  shelter  and  medical  aid  in  1852;  a  deaf  and  dumb  asylum  at 
Danville  instructed  67  mute  and  deaf,  and  a  blind  school  at  Louisville, 
35  sightless  pupils.  A  second  lunatic  asylum  is  nearly  finished  at  Hop- 
kinsville,  at  a  cost  of  $180,000.  The  State  Penitentiary  at  Frankfort 
confined  166  prisoners  in  the  same  year. 

Population.  —  The  population  of  Kentucky  was  originally  derived 
from  Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  and  has  always  been  noted  for  its 
stalwart  forms,  frank  and  manly  bearing,  for  gallantry  in  the  field,  and 
fondness  for  humor.  The  number  of  inhabitants  in  1790  was  73,077; 
220,955  in  1800;  406,511  in  1810;  564,317  in  1820;  687,917  in  1830; 
779,828  in  1840;  and  982,405  in  1850— of  392,840  were* white  males, 
368,609  white  females,  4,861  free  colored  males,  5,150  free  colored 
females;  105,063  male,  and  105,918  female  slaves. 

Counties. — Kentucky  is  divided  into  101  counties,  viz.,  Adair,  Allen, 
Anderson,  Ballard,  Barren,  Bath,  Boone,  Bourbon,  Boyle,  Breathitt, 
Bracken,  Breckenridge,  Bullitt,  Butler,  Caldwell,  Callaway,  Campbell, 
Carroll,  Carter,  Casey,  Christian,  Clark,  Clay,  Clinton,  Crittenden,  Cum- 
berland, Daviess,  Edmonson,  Estil,  Fayette,  Fleming,  Floyd,  Franklin, 
Fulton,  Gallatin,  Garrard,  Grant,  Graves,  Grayson,  Greene,  Greenup, 
Hancock,  ILtrdin,  Harlan,  Harrison,  Hart,  Henderson,  Henry,  Hick- 
man, Hopkins,  Jefi'ersDn,  Jessamine,  Johnson,  Kenton,  Knox,  Laurel, 
La  Rue,  Lawrence,  Letcher,  Lewis,  Lincoln,  Livingston,  Logan,  Madi- 
son, Marion,  Marshall,  Mason,  McCracken,  Meade,  Mercer,  Monroe, 
Montgomery,  Morgan,  Muhlenburg,  Nelson,  Nicholas,  Ohio,  Oldham, 
Owen,  Owsley,  Pi:ndleton,  Perry,  Pike,  Powell,  Pulaski,  Rockcastle, 
Russel,  Scott,  Shelby,  Simpson,  Spencer,  Taylor,  Todd,  Trigg,  Trimble, 
Union,  Warren,  Washington,  Wayne,  Whitley,  Woodford.  Capital, 
Frankfort. 

Cities  and  Towns. — Louisville  is  the  largest  and  most  commercial 
town,  population  in  1850,  43,194;  in  1853,  51,726;  the  other  most 
populous  towns  are   Lexington,  population   about  12,000  j  Covington, 


632  KENTUCKY. 

9,408,  (12,000  in  1853;)  Newport,  5,895,  (9,000  in  1853;)  Maysville, 
3,840;  Frankfort,  in  1853,  5,000;  and  Paducab,  population  2,428. 

Government,  Finances,  etc. — The  governor  of  Kentucky  is  elected 
by  the  people  for  four  3'ears,  and  receives  $2,500  per  annum.  Tbe 
Senate  consists  of  38  members,  elected  for  4,  and  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives of  100  members,  elected  for  2  years.  The  legislature  meets 
on  the  first  Monday  in  December.  The  judiciary  consists — 1.  Of  a 
court  of  appeals,  composed  of  one  chief  and  three  associate  judges.  2.  Of 
a  court  of  chancery,  presided  over  by  a  siugle  chancellor;  and,  3.  Of  12 
circuit  courts.  The  judges  of  the  court  of  appeals  and  the  chancellor 
each  receive  81,500  per  annum,  and  the  circuit  judges  §1,400.  All  these 
officers  are  elected  by  the  people.  The  judges  of  appeals  for  8  years, 
(one  every  second  year,)  and  of  the  circuit  courts,  for  6  years.  Ken- 
tucky is  entitled  to  10  members  in  the  National  House  of  Representatives, 
and  to  12  electoral  votes  for  president  of  the  United  States.  The 
assessed  value  of  property,  real  and  personal,  in  this  State  in  1853,  was 
$366,752,852 ;  the  public  debt  in  the  same  year  was  $6,147,283  ;  pro- 
ductive property,  $6,000,000,  and  ordinary  expenses,  exclusive  of  debt 
and  schools,  $250,000.  The  receipts  for  the  fiscal  year  ending  October, 
1852,  were  $782,885,  and  expenditures  $724,694.  The  receipts  of  the 
sinking  fund  for  the  payment  of  the  public  debt,  for  the  same  time,  were 
§484,949. 

History. — The  name  of  Kentucky  ("  the  dark  and  bloody  ground  ") 
is  an  epitome  of  her  early  history,  of  her  dark  and  blnody  conflicts  with  the 
wily  and  savage  foe.  This  State  was  formerly  included  in  the  Territory 
of  Virginia,  to  which  it  belonged  till  1792.  It  was  originally  explored, 
by  the  far-famed  Daniel  Boone  (of  many  of  whose  daring  exploits  it  was 
the  scene)  and  his  compeers,  about  the  year  1769,  at  or  near  which  date 
Boonsborough  was  settled.  Harrodsburg  was  found  in  1774,  and  Lex- 
ington a  year  or  two  after,  probably  while  the  news  of  the  battle  of  that 
name  was  fresh  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  its  founders.  The  first  court 
was  held  at  Harrodsburg  in  1777.  The  first  settlers  was  much  annoyed 
by  the  incursions  and  attacks  of  the  Indians.  The  State  owes  its  name 
not  merely  to  the  Indian  forays  upon  the  whites,  but  to  its  being  the 
battle-ground  between  the  northern  and  southern  Indians.  There  was 
a  period  of  discontent  subsequent  to  the  Revolution,  and  previous  to  the 
admission  of  Kentucky  into  the  federal  Union,  in  1792,  caused  partly 
by  the  inefficiency  of  the  protection  afi'orded  by  Virginia  and  the  old 
federal  Congress  against  the  inroads  of  the  savages,  and  partly  by  a  dis- 
trust lest  the  central  government  should  surrender  the  right  to  navigate 
the  Mississippi  to  its  mouth.  The  most  important  battle  ever  fought  on 
the  soil  of  Kentucky,  since  it  has  been  in  the  possession  of  the  white  race, 
was  that  fought  between  the  Indians  and  the  Kentuckians,  on  the  19th 
of  August,  1782,  near  the  Blue  Lick  springs.  The  celebrated  Colonel 
Boone  bore  a  prominent  part  in  this  engagement,  in  which  he  lost  a  son. 
The  whites  numbered  only  182,  while  the  savages  were  twice  or  thrice 
that  number.  The  combat  resulted  in  the  route  of  the  Kentuckians,  and 
a  loss  of  60  killed  and  wounded.  Thus  ended  the  most  disastrous  con- 
flict in  which  the  whites  had  been  engaged  with  the  aborigines  since  the 


KENTUCKY.  633 

defeat  of  Braddock.  Kentucky  was  the  central  scene  of  the  imputed 
intrigues  of  Aaron  Burr  and  his  coadjutors  to  form  a  western  republic. 
The  Kentuckians,  however  frank  and  brave  in  character,  were  not  the 
material  from  which  to  manufacture  rebels ;  nor  the  State  that  gave 
Henry  Clay  to  the  national  councils,  one  to  foster  disunionists.  Ken- 
tucky was  largely  and  effectively  represented  in  the  war  with  Great 
Britain  in  1812,  and  in  the  more  recent  conflicts  with  Mexico  in  1846 
and  1847. 

Louisville,  a  flourishing  city  and  port  of  entry,  and  scat  of  justice  of 
Jefi'erson  county,  is  situated  on  the  Ohio  river,  at  the  head  of  the  Louisville 
falls,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Beargrass  creek,  130  miles  below  Cincinnati, 
53  miles  west  of  Frankfort,  and  590  miles  from  Washington.  Latitude 
38°  3'  north,  longitude  85°  30'  west.  It  is  the  largest  town  in  the  State, 
and  one  of  the  most  important  places  on  the  Ohio  river.  A  railroad,  93 
miles  long,  connects  it  with  Frankfort  and  Lexington,  and  several  others 
are  in  course  of  construction  from  this  place  to  Danville,  Nashville,  etc. 
The  situation  and  surrounding  scenery  are  remarkably  beautiful.  Lou- 
isville stands  on  a  plain  elevated  about  70  feet  above  low  water,  and  is 
regularly  laid  out.  Eight  handsome  streets  extend  nearly  two  miles  in 
length  parallel  with  the  river,  which  here  flows  from  east  to  west.  These 
vary  in  width  from  60  to  120  feet,  and  are  intersected,  at  right  angles, 
by  more  than  30  others,  with  a  uniform  width  of  60  feet.  The  streets 
are  generally  paved,  and  lighted  with  gas,  and  bordered  with  ornamental 
trees.  The  most  remarkable  public  buildings  are  the  City  Hall,  and 
Court-house,  the  First  Presbyterian  church,  St.  Paul's  church,  (Episco- 
pal,) the  Medical  Institute,  and  the  University  of  Louisville.  The  His- 
torical Society  of  this  place  has  collected  valuable  documents  relating  to 
the  early  history  of  the  State.     Louisville  also  contains  a  marine  asylum. 

Louisville  may  be  said  to  owe  its  existence  to  the  falls,  which  arrested 
the  course  of  navigation  at  this  point.  In  1853,  a  canal  2h  miles  long 
was  opened  around  these  falls,  with  a  total  lockage  of  22  feet.  It  was 
cut  through  the  solid  limestone  rock,  at  a  cost  of  ^750,000.  The  dimen- 
sions having  been  found  too  small  to  admit  the  passage  of  the  largest 
steamers  now  built  for  the  New  Orleans  trade,  a  railway  has  been  pro- 
jected on. the  Indiana  side,  the  object  of  which  is  to  transport  such 
vessels  around  the  rapids  by  means  of  a  stationary  engine  and  pulleys. 
The  stock  has  been  taken,  and  the  work  will  doubtless  shortly  be  com- 
pleted. In  1850  the  entire  trade  of  Louisville  was  estimated  at  $50,000,- 
000.  (De  Bow's  Eeview.)  The  wholesale  business  has  increased  rapidly 
since  that  period.  There  are  now  near  100  houses  doing  an  exclusively 
wholesale  business,  the  amount  of  which  is  computed  at  $20,321,400; 
viz.,  25  of  dry  goods,  39  of  groceries,  8  of  drugs,  9  of  hardware,  8  of 
hats  and  furs,  8  of  boots  and  shoes,  and  9  of  saddlery.  Many  of  the 
warehouses  are  3  or  4  stories  high,  and  from  100  to  130  feet  deep.  No 
exact  record  has  been  kept  of  the  exports  of  this  town,  but  a  good  esti- 
mate may  be  found  from  the  number  of  steamboat  arrivals  ;  which,  frona 
the  diff"ercnt  ports  below  the  fulls,  for  the  year  ending  June  30,  1852, 
was  1,124;  the  number  from  the  upper  Ohio  was  probably  about  the 
same.     The  chief  articles  of  export  are  tobacco,  pork,  hemp,  and  flour. 


G34  KENTUCKY. 

Louisville  is  a  commercial  ratlicr  than  a  manufacturing  town.  Ita 
nianufaeturos,  however,  comprise  a  great  variety  of  articles,  and  are 
ostiniatod  to  amount  in  value  to  about  S6, 000,000  annually.  Among  the 
principal  establishments  may  be  mentioned  15  iron  foundries,  employing 
O.'JO  hands,  and  producing  manufactures  to  the  value  of  $1,392,200;  82 
tobacco  factories,  employing  1,050  hands,  who  turn  out  $1,347,500  worth 
of  manufactured  tobacco;  45  for  making  clotliing,  employing  1,157 
hanils,  and  producing  articles  to  the  value  of  $941,500;  25  of  furniture, 
employing  446  persons,  who  turn  out  $638,000  worth  of  cabinet-ware; 

11  rope-walks,  yielding  goods  to  the  value  of  $460,000;  6  soap  and 
candle  factories,  producing  goods  to  the  value  of  $409,000;  9  flour  and 
feed  mills,  9  tanneries,  3  cotton  and  woolen  factories,  3  oil-mills,  3  bag- 
ging factories,  2  white  lead  factories,  a  glass  factory,  and  several  pot- 
teries. Population  in  1830,  10,341;  in  1840,  21,210;  in  1850,  43,196; 
and  in  1852,  it  amounted  to  51,720. 

Lexington,  a  handsome  and  wealthy  city,  capital  of  Fayette  county, 
on  the  Town  fork  of  the  Elkhorn  river,  25  miles  south-east  of  Frankfort, 
81  miles  south  of  Cincinnati,  and  94  miles  east  of  Louisville.  Latitude 
38°  6'  north,  longitude  84°  18'  west.  Lexington  is  the  second  city  of 
the  State  in  population  and  impoi-tanee.  Few  inland  towns  are  more 
delightfully  situated  or  more  remarkable  for  the  b  auty  of  their  general 
appearance.  It  is  laid  out  in  rectangular  blocks;  the  streets  are  well 
paved,  and  bordered  with  ornamental  trees.  Main  street  is  80  feet  wide, 
and  more  than  a  mile  long.  Many  of  the  public  and  private  buildings 
are  spacious  and  very  handsome  specimens  of  architecture.  The  sur- 
rounding country  is  undulating,  highly  cultivated,  and  dotted  with 
elegant  mansions.  Lexington  is  distinguished  for  the  excellence  of  its 
literary  and  scientific  establishments.  Transylvania  University  of  this 
place  is  a  flourishing  institution  ;  the  departments  of  law  and  medicine 
are  probably  more  frequented  than  any  other  in  the  Western  States.  It 
has  a  library  of  14,000  volumes.  The  halls  of  the  university  are  among 
the  principal  ornaments  of  the  city.  The  State  lunatic  asylum,  located 
here,  occupies  a  large  and  beautiful  building,  capable  of  accommodating 
more  than  300  patients.  The  city  also  contains  a  court-house,  2  banks, 
a  public  library,  several  academies,  a  museum,  an  orphan  asylum,  about 

12  churches,  and  5  or  6  newspaper  ofiices.  A  monument  is  to  be  erected 
here  to  the  memory  of  Henry  Clay,  who  resided  at  Ashland,  a  mile  and 
a  half  from  the  city.  Lexington  is  the  centre  of  an  extensive  trade,  facili- 
tated by  railways — one  extending  to  Louisville  via,  Frankfort,  and  another, 
recently  completed,  connecting  it  with  Cincinnati.  Other  railways 
are  in  course  of  construction  to  Maysville  and  Danville.  This  place  is 
the  seat  of  valuable  manufactures,  the  most  important  of  which  are  bag- 
ging, ropes,  iron,  brass,  and  silver  ware,  machinery,  and  carriages.  The 
city  and  suburbs  produce  annually  about  3,000,000  yards  of  bagging, 
and  2,500,000  pounds  of  rope.  Lexington  was  formerly  the  capital  of 
Kentucky.  It  was  founded  in  1776,  and  incorporated  in  1782.  Popu- 
lation in  1845,  8,178;  in  1853,  it  was  about  12,000. 


TABLE  OF  DISTANCES 


FEOM  EAST  TO  WEST. 


From  Boston  to  Albany. 
Boston  to 

Worcester  44 

Clappville   53 

Charlton 67 

Spencer 62 

East  Brookfield 64 

Brookfield 67 

West  Brookfield 69 

Warren 73 

Brimfield 

Palmer  83 

Indian  Orchard 92 

Springfield 98 

West  Springfield 100 

Westfield   108 

Russell 116 

Huntington 119 

Chester  Factory..  126 

Middlefield  

Becket 135 

Washington 138 

Hinsdale 143 

Dal  ton 146 

Pittsfield 151 

Shaker  Village  154 

Richmond 159 

State  Line 162 

Canaan  167 

East  Chatham 172 

Chatham  Four-Corners....! 77 

Chatham  Center 181 

Kinderhook 184 

Schodack 192 

Groenbush 199 

Albany  200 

New     York  to  Albany. 
New   York,    Chambers 
street,  to 

Thirty-first  street 3 

Manhattan  

Yonkers  17 

Hastings  21 

Dobbs' Ferry 22 


Irvington  

Tarrytown  

Sing  Sing , 

Crugers 

Peekskill 

Garrison's 

Cold  Spring 

FishkiU  

New  Hamburg. 
Poughkeepsie  . 

Hyde  Park 

Staatsburg 

Rhinebeck 

Barrytown 

Tivoli 

German  town... 

Oak  Hill 

Hudson 

i'tockport 

Coxsackie 

Stuyvesant 

Schodack  

Castletou 

Pjast  Albany — 


.  25 
.  27 
.  32 
.  36 
.  43 
.  51 
.  54 
.  60 
.  66 
.  75 
.  81 
.  85 
.  91 

.100 
.105 
.110 
.116 
.120 
.123 
.126 
.133 
.136 
.144 


Albany  to  Buffalo, 
Albany  to  • 

Troy 

Schenectady 

Hoffman's 

Crane's  Village  

Amsterdam 

Tribe's  Hill 

Fonda  

Yost's  , 

Sprak  er's 

Palatine  Bridge 

Port  Plain 

St.  Jolnisvillc 

Little  Falls 

Herkimer 

Ilion 

Pranki'urt 

Utica 

Whitesboro' 


Oriskany  102 

Rome 109 

Green's  Comers ..114 

Verona 118 

Oneida  122 

AVampsville 125 

Canastota 127 

Canasaraga 131 

Chittenango 133 

Kirkville  137 

Manlius  140 

Syracuse  148 

Warner's 157 

Canton 159 

Jordan 165 

Weedsport 169 

Port  Byron  172 

Savannah 179 

Clyde 186 

Lyons  193 

Newark 198 

Palmyra 206 

Macedon 210 

Fairport 219 

Rochester 229 

Cold  Water 235 

ChUi 239 

Churchville 244 

Bergen  247 

West  Bergon 251 

Byron  254 

Batavia 261 

Croft's 268 

Pembroke 272 

Alden 277 

Wende 279 

Town  Line 282 

Lancaster 2S7 

Forks 289 

Bufialo  298 


Rochester  to  Suspension 
Bridge. 
Rochester  to 

Gates 6 

635 


686 


TABLE  OF  DISTANCES, 


Spencerport 10 

Ailani's  Basin 12 

IJrockport 17 

llolloy  22 

Jliirruy  25 

Albion    30 

Medina 40 

Middleport 45 

Gasport 51 

],(H'kport f6 

Pokiu (i6 

Suspension  Bridge 74 

Connects    -with    Great 
Western  llailway. 


Buffalo    to    Saspcnsion 
Bridge. 
Buffalo  to 

Black  Rock 4 

Tonawauda 11 

La  Salle  17 

Niagara  Falls  22 

Suspension  Bridge 24 


New    York   to   I^iinkirk,  via. 

A'etc  York  and  Erie  B.  B. 
Kew  York  to 

Jersey  City 1 

Bergen 3 

Hackensack  Bridge 7 

Boiling  Spring 9 

Passaic  Bridge 12 

Huyler's 13 

Paterson 17 

Good  win  ville 22 

Hohokus 24 

Allendale 26 

Ramsey's 28 

Suffern's 33 

Ramapo 34 

Sloatsburg 36 

Southfields 43 

Greenwood 45 

Turners  48 

Monroe 50 

Oxford 53 

Junction    55 

Chester  56 

Goshen  60 

Hampton  64 

Middletown  68 

Howell's  72 

Otisville  76 

Port  Jervis 89 

Shohola 108 

Lacka waxen  112 

Mast  Hope  117 

Narrowsburg  123 

Cochecton 132 

Callicoon 137 

Hankin's 144 

Lord  ville  154 

Stockport 160 

Hancock 165 


Hale's  Eddy 173 

Deposit  178 

Susquehanna 193 

Great  Bend  201 

Kirk  wood 207 

Binghamton 216 

Union  224 

Campville 231 

Owego 238 

Tioga 243 

Sniithboro' 247 

Barton 250 

Waverly 257 

Chemung 261 

Wellsburg 267 

Elmira 274 

Junction    Elmira,    Canan- 
daigua,    and    Niagara 

Falls  Railroad 278 

Big  Flats 284 

Corning   292 

Painted  Post 293 

Addison  303 

Rathboneville  308 

Cameron  315 

Crosby  ville 324 

Canisteo  329 

Hornelsville 333 

[See  table  from  Hornels- 
ville to  Buffalo.] 

Almond 338 

Alfred 342 

Andover 350 

Genesee 359 

Scio 363 

Phillipsville 367 

Belvidere 370 

Friendship 376 

Cuba  384 

Hinsdale  390 

Olean 396 

Allegany 399 

Great  Valley 412 

Little  Valley 222 

Cattaraugus 429 

Dayton  439 

Perrysburg  442 

Smith's  Mills 449 

Forestville 452 

Dunkirk 461 


Darien  City 64 

Darion  Center  66 

Alden 71 

Town  Lino  76 

Lancaster 81 

Buffalo  91 


Philadelphia  to  Williamsport 
Philadelphia  to 

Port  Clinton 78 

Ringgold  88 

Tamaqua  98 

Summit 110 

Mahanoy 118 

Ringtown 123 

Beaver 130 

Maine  ville  138 

Catawissa 146 

Rupert 147 

Danville 154 

Mooresburg 160 

Milton  170 

Muncy 187 

Williamsport 197 


Hornelnville  to  Buffalo. 
Hornelsville  to 

Burns  9 

Whitney  Valley  13 

Swain  ville 17 

Nunda 24 

Portage 30 

Castile 34 

Gainesville 37 

Warsaw 44 

Middlebury 49 

Linden.. 53 

Attica  60 


Williamsport  to  Elmira. 
Williamsport  to 

McKinney's 5 

Mahaffey's 7 

Cogan  Valley 8 

Crescent II 

Trout  Run  15 

Field's 16 

Dubois 19 

Bodine's 20 

Lycoming 22 

Ralston 25 

Canton 39 

Alba 44 

West  Granville 48 

Troy 52 

Columbia  Road 57 

Dunning's  65 

State  Line 68 

Elmira  78 


Elmira  to  Suspension  Bridge. 
Elmira  to 

Junction 4 

Horseheads  6 

Millport 13 

Havana 19 

Jefferson  22 

Rock  Stream 28 

Big  Stream  30 

Starkey 33 

Himrod's  37 

Milo  Center 41 

Penn  Yann 45 

Benton 49 

Bellona 51 

Hall's  Corners 55 

Gorhara 58 

Hopewell 63 


FROM  EAST  TO  WEST. 


637 


Canandaigua 69 

East  Blooin^ield 77 

West  Bloomfield  85 

Honeoye  Falls 88 

Genesee    Valley   Railroad 

Junction  95 

Caledonia 102 

Leroy 109 

Stafford 113 

Batavia../. 119 

East  Pembroke  125 

Eichville 132 

Akron  135 

Clarence  Center 142 

Transit 146 

Vincent 152 

Tonawanda 155 

Cayuga  Creek 161 

Niagara  Falls 166 

Suspension  Bridge 168 

Suspension  Bridge  to  Detroit, 
via  Great  Western  Railway. 
Suspension  Bridge  to 

Thorold 9 

St.  Catherines 11 

Jordan 17 

Beamsville 22 

Grimsby 27 

Ontario 32 

Hamilton 43 

Dundas  48 

Flamboro' 52 

Copetown 55 

Vansickles 59 

Fairchild's  Creek 62 

Paris 72 

Princeton 79 

Eastwood  86 

Woodstock  91 

Beachville  96 

Ingersoll  100 

Edwardsburg 110 

London 119 

Komoka    129 

Mount  Brydges 134 

Ekfrid 139 

Mosa 149 

Wardsville 156 

Thamesville  168 

Chatham 183 

Baptiste  Creek 196 

Rochester 210 

Puce  216 

Windsor 229 

Detroit 230 


Buffalo  to  Chicago,  via  Lake 

Shore  Railroad. 
Buffalo  to 

Hamburg  10 

Evans'  Center 21 

Irving 29 

Dunkirk  40 

41 


Portland 50 

Westfield 57 

Quincy 65 

State  Line 68 

North  East 73 

Harbor  Creek 80 

Erie 88 

Swanville 95 

Girard 103 

Springfield 108 

Conneaut 115 

Kingsville 123 

Ashtabula 129 

Saybrook 133 

Geneva 138 

Madison  143 

Perry 148 

Painesville 152 

Mentor 158 

Willoughby 162 

Wickliffe 167 

Euclid 171 

Cleveland 181 

Rockport 187 

Berea 193 

Olmsted  Falls 195 

Ridgeville .....200 

Elyria 206 

Amherst  212 

Brownhelm 215 

Vermillion 119 

Berlin  227 

Huron 231 

Sandusky 241 

Venice  244 

Mixer's  Point 248 

Port  Clinton 254 

Hartford 265 

Benton 271 

Clay  Junction 680 

Toledo  288 

Chicago 631 


Sturgis 112 

White  Pigeon 124 

Middlebury 129 

Bristol 134 

Elkhart  144 

Mishawaka 154 

South  Bend 158 

Terre  Coupee 169 

Rolling  Prairie 178 

Laporte 185 

Holmesville  193 

Calumet 202 

Bailytown 207 

Miller's 214 

Pine  Station 221 

Ainsworth 231 

Junction 236 

Chicago 243 


Buffalo  to  Chicago  via  Michi- 
gan Southern  Railroad. 
Steamers    leave    Buffalo    for 
Toledo    every  evening,  ex- 
cept Sundays. 
Toledo  to 

Air  Line  Junction 3 

Sylvania 11 

Knight's 21 

Blissfield 23 

Palmyra  27 

Adrian 33 

Clayton 44 

Hudson 50 

Pitsford 56 

Hillsdale  

Jonesvillo 70 

Quincy 82 

Coldwater 88 

Bronson 99 

Burr  Oak 106 


Buffalo  to  Chicago  via  Michi- 
gan Central  Railroad. 
Steamers  leave  Buffalo  for  De- 
troit every  evening,  except 
Sundays. 
Detroit  to 

Halfway  Side  Track 

Dearborn 10 

Wayne 18 

Ypsilanti  30 

Ann  Arbor. 37 

Dexter  47 

Chelsea 64 

Grass  Lake 65 

Jackson 75 

Parma 86 

Albion  9£ 

Marengo 101 

Marshall 107 

Ceresco 112 

Battle  Creek 120 

Galesburg 134 

Kalamazoo 14S 

Oshtemo 148 

Paw  Paw 159 

Decatur 167 

Dowagiac 178 

Niles 191 

Buchanan 196 

Terre  Coupee 202 

New  Buffalo 218 

Michigan  City 228 

Porter 240 

Lake  Station 248 

Gibson's 260 

Calumet 269 

Five  Mile  Side  Track 

Chicago 282 

Philadelphia  lo  Pittsburg. 
Philadelphia  to 

Downing 32 

Lancaster  68 

Dillorvillo 70 

Landiavillo  Station 77 


638 


TABLE  OF  DISTANCES, 


Mount  Joy 811 

Elizabethtown 87 

Conewn^o 90 

Branch    [iitersection 95 

Mia.lletown  96 

Jii.^'iK-jpire 100 

Ihiirisburg 106 

Rockville  Station Ill 

Cove 116; 

Duucaunon 120 

AijuoJuct  Station 123 

Baily's 12S 

Newport 133 

Millerstown 138 

Thompson  town 143 

Tuscarora 148 

Mifflin ■ 154 

Narrows  Station 161 

Lewis  town 166 

Anderson's  Station 173 

McVeyton 178 

Manayunk  Station 183 

North    Hamilton 188 

Mount  Union 191 

Mill   Creek 197 

Huntingdon 202 

Petersburg 208 

Spruce  Creek 214 

Tyrone 221 

Fc^toria 227 

Altoona  ....•> 236 

Kittanning  Point 242 

East  End  of  Tunnel 247 

Gallitzin 249 

Cresson 252 

Lilly's 256 

Portage 260 

Willmore 262 

Summerhill  264 

South  Fork 268 

Mineral  Point 270 

Coueniaugh 273 

Johnstown 275 

Dornock  Point 278 

Slackwater  Station 281 

Nineveh 285 

New  Florence 289 

Lockport 293 

Bolivar  295 

Blairsville  Branch 300 

Hillside  304 

Derry 307 

Lntrobe 312 

Bealy's 315 

tjreensburg 322 

Uadebaugh's  324 

Manor 329 

li  win's  331 

,Sr.'.>  wart's 336 

Brin ton's  341 

Wilkinsburg 346 

East  Liberty 348 

Outer  Station 352 

Pittsburg 353 


Pittsburg  to  Fort  Wnyne. 
Pittsburg  to 

Courtney's  6 

Haysville 10 

Sewickley 12 

Shousetown 14 

Economy 17 

Remington 21 

Freedom 23 

Rochester.  25 

New  Brighton 28 

Darlington  38 

Enon  44 

Palestine 49 

Bull  Creek 64 

Columbiana 50 

Franklin 65 

Salem  69 

Damascus 74 

Smithfield 77 

Alliance 82 

S trasburg 88 

Louisville 94 

Canton 100 

Massillon 108 

Lawrence 115 

Fairvicw 119 

Orrville 123 

Paradise  126 

Wooster 134 

Millbrook  140 

Clinton  143 

Lakevillo  149 

Loudonville 155 

Perrysville  160 

Lucas  167 

Mansfield  174 

Spring  Mills 179 

Richland  11^3 

Crestline 187 

Leesville 190 

Bucyrus. 199 

Nevada 207 

Upper  Sandusky 216 

Kirby 222 

Forest 228 

Dunkirk 234 

Mount  Washington 238 

Johnstown 245 

Lafayette 252 

Lima , 259 

Elida 266 

Delphos 273 

Middle   Point 279 

Van  \Yert 286 

Dixon  299 

Maples.. 308 

Fort  Wayne 318 


Huntsville 2T 

Pierceton 30 

Wooster 33 

Warsaw 40 

Etna  Green 50 

Bourbon 53 

Plymouth  65 

Cross  New  Albany  and  Sa- 
lem Railroad 95 

Valparaiso 104 

Hobart ..117 

Cross  Joliet  Cut-Oflf  Rail- 
road   120 

Illinois  Line 134 

Chicago 147 

Cleveland  tu  Cincinnati. 
Cleveland  to 

Rockport 7 

Berea 12 

Olmstead 15 

Columbia 18 

Grafton 25 

La  Grange 29 

Wellington  36 

Rochester 41 

New  London 47 

Greenwich 54 

Salem 60 

Shelby 67 

Crestline 75 

Gallon 79 

Iberia 85 

Gilead 92 

Cardington 97 

Ashley  104 

Eden 108 

Delaware 112 

Berlin 115 

Orange 119 

Worthington 126 

Columbus  135 

Cincinnati 255 


Fort    Wayne  to  Chicago 
Fort  Wayne  to 

Taw-Taw 

Coesse... 14 

Columbia 20 


Cincinnati  to  Vincennea. 
Cincinnati  to 

Sylvania 3 

Anderson's  Ferry 6 

Delhi 10 

North  Bend 16 

Pike 17 

Gravel  Pit 18 

Corn-Crib  Switch 21 

Junction 22 

Lawrenceburg  22 

Turnout 23 

Aurora 25 

Cochran 27 

Dillsborough  33 

Moore's  Hill 40 

Milan 42 

Pierceville 45 

Delaware 47 

Laughery  Creek 49 


FROM  EAST  TO  WEST. 


639 


Osgood 52 

Poston  66 

Helton 58 

Otter  Creek 61 

Turnout 63 

Butlorville 

North  Vernon 73 

Hardenberg 80 

Seymour 88 

Vi'iicennes  to  St.  fioiiis. 
Take  steamers  for  all  ports  on 
the    Mississippi    and   Mis- 
souri Rivers. 
Vincennes  to 

Lawrenceville 9 

Summer 19 

Claremont 25 

Olney 31 

Noble 39 

Maysville  46 

Flora 53 

Xenia 62 

Middleton 70 

Salem 79 

Junction 85 

Sandoval  88 

Collins' 96 

Carlyle 102 

Shoal  Creek 110 

Aviston 114 

Trenton 118 

Summerfield 122 

Lebanon 125 

O'Fallon  133 

Caseyville 139 

niinoistown  147 

St.  Louis 

Cleveland  to  Indianapolis. 
Cleveland  to 

Crestline 75 

Gallon 79 

Caledonia 90 

Marion 99 

Bryant's 104 

Larue  113 

Mount  Victory 121 

Kidgway  124 

Rushsylvania 130 

Harper 133 

Bellefontaine  139 

De  Graff. 149 

Pemberton  155 

Sidney  162 

Hardin 167 

Lor.  and  Houston 172 

Versailles 180 

Dallas IKS 

Union  197 

Harrisville  201 

Winchester  207 

Farmland  214 

Smithfield 221 


Muncie  227 

Yorktown 233 

Chesterfield 239 

Anderson  245 

Pendleton  253 

Alfont 268 

Fortville 261 

McCord's 264 

Oakland 266 

Laneville 271 

Delzell's 275 

Indianapolis  280 

Indianapolis  to   Terre  Haute 
Indianapolis  to 

Bridgeport 

Plainfield  14 

Cartersburg 17 

Bellville  19 

Clayton 21 

Pocksburg 33 

Amo ; 25 

Cincinnatus 27 

Coastville 29 

Nicholsonville  33 

Greencastle 39 

Putnamville 42 

Hamerick's 44 

Reel's  Mill...  48 

Eaglefield's  Mill 51 

Croy's  Creek 52 

Brazil  57 

Staunton 61 

Cloverland 63 

Wood's  Mill 65 

Terre  Haute 73 


Terre  Haute  to  Alton,  on  the 
Mississippi,  at  the  junction 
of  the  Missouri. 
Terre  Haute  to 

St.  Mary's 4 

Sanford's 8 

Paris 19 

Grandview 28 

Midway 32 

Ashmoro 37 

Chiirieston 46 

Mattoon 56 

Summit 62 

Windsor 68 

Thornton 78 

Sholbyville 80 

Toworhill 88 

Pana 95 

Nocomis 107 

Irving 117 

Ilillsborougli 123 

Litchfield 134 

Clydo 139 

Gillespie 144 

Bunker  Hill 153 

Dorsoy's 158 

Bothalto 163 


Alton 163 

Junction 167 

niinoistown  187 

St.  Louis 

Chicago  to  St.  Louis. 
Chicago  to 

Joliet 4 

Elwood 49 

Wilmington 56 

Stewart's  Grove 63 

Gardner 68 

Dwight 77 

Odell 85 

Livingston 90 

Pontiac 95 

Rook  Creek 100 

Peoria  Junction 106 

Lexington 113 

Towanda 121 

Illinois    Central    Railroad 

Junction 127 

Bloomington 129 

Funk's  Grove 140 

Atlanta ..; 149 

Lawn  Dale 151 

Lincoln ,».. 160 

Elkhart 170 

Williamsville 176 

Sangamon ^ 83 

Springfield .; 188 

Great    Western    Railroad 

Junction 190 

Chatham 197 

Auburn  203 

Virden 210 

Girard 214 

Prairie  Station 218 

Carlinville  226 

Macoupin 233 

Shipman 241 

Brighton 248 

Monticello  255 

Alton 280 

St.  Louis 285 

Chicago  to  Burlington 
Chicago  to 

Park  Station 

Oak  Ridge 8 

Babcock's  Grove 20 

Dnnby 23 

Whcaton's 15 

Winfield  28 

Junction 30 

Batavia 36 

Aurora 43 

West  Aurora 44 

Montgomery 45 

Oswego  47 

Bristol  51 

Piano    57 

Newark 61 

Somonauk 04 


640 


TABLE  OF  DISTANCES. 


Waverly 71 

Earl  77 

Mendota 8S 

Arlington  97 

Dover 10-1 

Princeton 109 

Wyanet 126 

Buda  112 

Neponset 128 

Eewanee 136 

Galvy 144 

Altona 152 

Wataga 160 

Galesburg 168 

Cameron 177 

Monmouth 1S4 

Linden 191 

Oquawka  Junction 202 

East  Burlington  210 

Chicago  to  Madison. 
Chicago  to 

Park  Station 

Oak  Ridge 8 

Cottage  Hill 16 

Babcock's  Grove 20 

Danby  22 

Wheaton  25 

Winfield 27 

Aurora  Junction 30 

Wayne 35 

Clinton 39 

Elgin 42 

GUbert 50 

Huntley 55 

Union 62 

Marengo    68 

Garden  Prairie 72 

Belvidere 78 

Caledonia 86 

Roscoe 93 

Beloit 98 

Afton 106 

Plymouth Ill 

FootviUe 114 

Magnolia 118 

Madison 156 

Chicago  to  Milwaukie 
Chicago  to 

Chittenden 7 

Evanston 12 

Wynetka 16 

Glencoe 19 


Highland  Park 23 

Rockland 30 

Waukegan' 35 

State  Line 45 

Kenosha 51 

Racine -; 62 

County  Line 70 

Oak  Creek 75 

Milwaukie 85 

Milwaukie  to  Beaver  Dam. 
Milwaukie 

Schwartzburg 7 

Granville 13 

Germantown  18 

Richfield  23 

Cedar  Creek 28 

Schleisinger 30 

Hartford 34 

Rubicon  39 

Woodland 43 

Iron  Ridge 45 

Horicon 51 

Junction 54 

Oak  Grove  56 

Beaver  Dam 61 

Milwaukie  to  Madison. 
Milwaukie  to 

Wauwautosa 5 

Side  Track 12 

Junction 14 

Forest  House 17 

Waukesha 20 

Genesee  28 

Eagle 36 

Palmyra 42 

Whitewater 50 

Child's  Station 55 

Milton  62 

Edgerton 72 

Stoughton,. 82 

Madison 98 


Chicago  to  Fond  du  Lac. 
Chicago  to 

JefTerson 9 

Canfield 12 

Des  Plaines 16 

Dunton  23 

Palatine 27 

Harrington  32 

Gary 38 


Crystal  Lake 43 

Ridgefield 45 

Woodstock 51 

Janes ville 90 

Fond  du  Lac 178 


Oalena  to  St.  Paul. 
Galena  to 
The  mouth  of  Fever  River    6 

Dubuque 26 

Cassville 67 

Wisconsin  River 83 

Prairie  du  Chien 88 

Upper  Iowa  River 126 

Bad  Ox 138 

Root  River 161 

Black  River 173 

Chippewa  River 341 

Head  of  Lake  Pepin 266 

St.  Croix 301 

St.  Paul 327 


Independence,  Mo.,  to  Pawnee 

Rook. 
Independence  City  to 

Kansas  boundary 22 

Love  Elm 29 

Round  Grove 35 

The  Narrows 65 

Black  Jack 68 

One-hundred-and-ten-mile 

Creek 100 

(Council    City,)     Switzler 

Creek 109 

Dragoon  Creek 114 

(Council  Grove,)  Big  John 

Spring 149 

Kansas  Village 150 

Sylvan  Camp 152 

Willow  Spring 158 

Diamond  Spring 171 

Lost  Spring 187 

Cottonwood  Fork  of  Grand 

River 199 

Turkey  Creek 228 

Mud  Creek 247 

Little  Arkansas 250 

Cow  Creek 270 

Plum  Buttes 284 

Great  Bend  of  the  Arkan- 
sas  286 

Walnut  Creek 293 

Pawnee  Rock 307 


(lJ        ^        i- 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


UNTV 


:alifornia 


LOS  a::geles 

LlBRx^RY 


iriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiM 
3  1158  00032  378 


tr 


/ 


yC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA      001366  088 


1 


